Escape
by rachel142
Summary: Suspense & Building Romance Fic! Hotch shows up at Emily's house to return something of hers & they are put in a situation that threatens both their lives and their skills. Will the team be able to find them and help them stay alive? Enter a mysterious person from Emily's past, & Hotch doesn't know what to think about all he is learning of his colleague. Entire team will take part.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so this first chapter is mainly from Hotch's perspective, but if you have read any of my other stories you should know that I switch up the point of view often, not settling in a particular voice. This story will take place late in season three, but as you will come to realize in later chapters, I am most definitely changing things up from the actual story line! Also, lets just pretend that Haley and Hotch have been divorced for most of the show, because even though they were divorced mid-season three (before this story takes place), I'd rather it have been much sooner for this particular story. **

**Enjoy!**

**CHAPTER ONE**

As the clock ticked closer to midday, each member of the BAU team was bent studiously over their desks working on paperwork. After returning from a grueling case a few days prior, their team leader, SSAIC Aaron Hotchner, had taken the team off of rotation for a much-needed break.

Although he would prefer that it was his team that was out catching the killers, he knew that the BAU's secondary team could more than handle themselves. But just the same, he knew that his team as well as himself shared a similar mentality when it came to wanting to be a constantly active participant in the field whenever possible.

Hotch looked up from his desk, glancing at the clock above his office door, noting that it was nearing the time when his team would start slowly pairing off for their lunch break.

JJ and Emily would head to Garcia's lair to grab her for a quick run to their favorite coffee shop, Derek and Spencer would go down to the cafeteria to eat lunch where he would tease Reid about being so skinny, joking that he needed to put some meat on his bones. And Rossi, much like himself, would stay in his office pouring over another case, skipping his midday meal.

Although he had no intentions of taking a break from his work, or going out to eat with any member of his team, he still enjoyed seeing them bond in ways that he wouldn't let himself to. Whether it was because of the solitude ingrained in his personality from his not so pleasant childhood, or if it was simply because he had always maintained that as their superior, he should always hold himself at a respectable distance from his teammates, he didn't know. Although he never thought of a single one of them as less than himself in any manner or form, he knew that as their superior, it wouldn't do to become too friendly with his subordinates. Not that he didn't think of them all as family, it was just that sending them into a potentially life threatening situation was easier when you kept your self at a distance, physically as well as emotionally. Not that going out to lunch with them once or twice would make it harder to keep an objective mind, but still.

Sometimes he wished that he had kept himself at more of a distance than he already did, and yet it was so hard when you spend more hours a week with them than you do with your own son. It would make it easier to send Morgan into an unsub's house if he wasn't aware that Derek had three sisters who loved him, and a mother who would be devastated to lose yet another man in the family to such a demanding job. Or that Reid had a mother in the hospital that he wrote to every week, or that JJ had a husband and a little boy named Henry who was around the same age as his own son, Jack.

He was often thankful that Garcia rarely left her lair, and that he would never have to deliberately send her out into the field. While he knew that the BAU was the only family she really had, he didn't think he could bear to send such a bubbly person who was seemingly impervious to the hatred around her, into such an ugly world. He would never forgive himself if she were to be hurt again under his supervision. Already, her brief brush with death had terrified both himself and his team to the point of near hysteria. He didn't think he'd be able to handle ever seeing her so vulnerable and helpless again, or any member of his team for that matter.

Sighing, he bent his head back down to the large pile of papers sitting on his desk, content with his decision to work through lunch.

_Maybe I'll go grab another cup of coffee and a banana from the conference room in a while, _he thought to himself as he bent his head once more towards the files on his desk.

Hearing a large crash, he made his way over to his office window, glancing down into the bullpen. Seeing the laughing faces of both Emily and Derek, the slightly flustered one of Reid, and the knocked over chair laying on the floor along with several pencils and pieces of paper, he gathered that the loud noise was clearly just the result of the clumsiness of his youngest agent. Instantly relaxing and chuckling to himself, he watched as Derek started to grab his coat, motioning for Reid to join him, as Hotch had predicted. Eyes traveling to the desk across from Derek, he watched as the dark haired profiler gave them a bright smile, waving goodbye. Although he couldn't hear what was said, he knew by the bright red hue to Reid's cheeks that could be seen all the way form his office, that Emily had cracked a good-natured joke, teasing him in a way that only a big sister would.

Hotch had long ago come to enjoy her little witty remarks when she had let one or two out in his presence, though he would never admit it. Although he hadn't experienced her undeniable humor on the same level as the rest of the team, he could honestly say that she was one of the funniest people he had ever met. More than once he had found himself struggling to stifle his laughter at something ridiculous she had said. From the way she could easily banter with Morgan, dishing out a quick and witty response without a moment's hesitation, to the stories he had overheard of her outings with JJ and Garcia, he knew that she had a rather prominent sense of humor, although it had never been directed at him.

_Maybe that's a good thing, _he thought warily. _I have no doubt she could make me make a fool out of myself if she tried. _

As much as he resisted the thought, he knew that there was something special about Emily Prentiss.

Something intriguing.

He momentarily reflected on the words that Rossi had told him several months prior, before he himself had ever recognized her as the person he knew her to be today. "_She's one hell of a woman, Aaron. Maybe if you got to know her a little better you would pull your head out of your ass and start seeing what the rest of us see. If I didn't view her like a daughter, there's no way she'd be going home to an Empty house every night. A woman like that is a rare catch, and you have once right under your nose."_

At the time, he hadn't paid Dave's words much attention, but it had later come to his attention that he had been absolutely right. She was compassionate, intelligent, loyal—almost to a fault, beautiful, funny, logical. He of course had never thought of her in such an inappropriate way that he was sure other members of the FBI had, but he still thoroughly acknowledged these traits in her.

She had been a member of his team for quite some time now, and had fit in nicely, making quick friends with the rest of the team. She had fit in better than Elle ever had, and he was pleased to say that she had long ago become not only a functioning part of this team, but also a necessity. Thinking about it now, he felt his stomach turn at the difficulties she had had with the team at the beginning. Well not, JJ or Garcia, they seemed to warm up to each other real quick. And Derek had been protective of her, taking a liking to her the first day. Hell, even Reid had come to look up to her as a sister after he saw the extent of her capabilities on that first case.

_Huh. Well shit, was it really just me that gave her such a hard time?_

Although now, he was confidant that they had moved entirely past that, and that he would trust her with his life without a moment's hesitation, he knew that his hostility towards her had certainly set back their working relationship a few notches.

Of course, that was over a year ago, and now not only had she earned a spot socially with the team, but also had earned a special place in Hotch's mind too.

Not that she knew that.

None of them knew how he felt about his team members individually. He had worked with Rossi for most of his career and he knew that Dave was aware that he had come to think of him as one of his closest confidantes, though he had never once vocalized these thoughts to Rossi. But he was sure that Prentiss knew on some level that he respected her on the same level, if not more, than most members of the BAU. She continually impressed him with seemingly random skills that continuously came in handy during cases, which had been revealed throughout her time with the team.

And if he examined his own behavior a little closer, he may have found the underlying reason for the tension between the team, or specifically him and Prentiss, during her first few weeks on the job. He still hadn't realized what he had been doing to make things so stiff between them, but he was unintentionally pushing her away, just a little bit further from him emotionally than he did with the rest of the team. Trying his best to hold her at a safe distance, because in the back of his mind, he knew that if those barriers were to collapse, he would be helpless to stop it.

In the beginning, she had seen this as a means of distrust and coldness from her supervisor, but had later come to realize that it was just Aaron being "Agent Hotcher," the detached, yet caring supervisor she had come to know him as. Although she recognized that he wasn't quite so reserved around other members of the team, she chalked it up to him just knowing her for the least amount of time. Even though Rossi was the newest member to the team, Hotch had worked with him for a number of years before he had become the boss, making him even less reserved around Dave.

Quickly glancing up to her superior's office, she was surprised to see him standing in his window instead of taking his usual place at his desk.

Looking at her no less.

Eyes widening slightly, she gave him a quick smile before returning to her paperwork, slightly flustered.

_Did he know I was thinking about him?! Duh Emily, of course not! How would he know you were thinking about him? Moron. _

Frowning, he watched as she hunched back over her desk, quickly returning to her paperwork.

_Was she not going out for lunch like the rest of the team?_

He knew that she was just as invested in their work as he was, but usually she was the one urging everyone, including himself, to take a break every once in awhile.

Against his better judgment, he found himself opening his office door and heading quietly down the stairs.

Watching her supervisor make his way down the stairs from the corner of her eye, she was surprised when he turned towards her desk rather than continuing through towards the break room. Glancing up when he cleared his throat, she looked up hesitantly into the face of her supervisor, wondering what he could want.

"Do you need something, Sir?" She asked quietly, questioning him with a raised eyebrow.

"No, nothing Prentiss. Well nothing work related. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out to lunch with me?" He replied, inwardly cringing at the hopeful tone tacked on at the end of his sentence.

Eyes widening in surprise, she opened her mouth to ask why, but then quickly closed it.

_Yeah, that would do nicely Emily. The man is finally making an attempt to be social and is actually taking an UNCOHERSED break from work, when you respond dumbfounded, making him look stupid for asking you out to eat. Yes, that would do very nicely indeed._

Taking her momentary silence for a no, he was about to discretely back out of his offer with a quick excuse, when she finally replied.

"Sure! Let me just grab my coat. Where are we going?"

Although he knew that asking her out to eat implied that they would actually GO someplace, his face briefly fell as he realized that he hadn't thought that far ahead. He hadn't actually planned on her saying yes, let alone where they would go. Seeing the look of uncertainty flash in his eyes, she quickly grabbed her things before he could back out.

"How about we go to that new Deli a few blocks over? Me and Pen stopped there once and they have really good sandwiches." She suggested.

Giving her a small smile in return, he placed his left hand behind her, hovering over the curve of her lower back, silently ushering her towards the elevator. "Sure, that sounds great."

He was completely unaware of the fact that their building mutual trust and friendship in one another would soon lead to his involvement in one of the most intensely bewildering and terrifying days of their lives.

**^^(Hint hint—FORSHADOWING)^^**

**Hope you liked! Chapter two will be posted shortly. **


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Six days later, Hotch found himself standing in front of Emily's doorstep, fist hovering just inches above the dark wooden door.

_This is stupid Aaron, you should have just waited until tomorrow. It's not like it's an emergency or anything. _

Lowering his fist, he was about to turn around when he mentally chided himself.

_You're already here, it's not a big deal! Just knock on the damn door!_

Rolling his eyes at himself at the internal conversation, he quickly pondered why it was that he was so indecisive around her. No one who had ever met him would ever label Aaron Hotchner as timid, in any way shape or form. So why was it always her that he was less harsh with, less sure of himself with?

Storing that thought away for later contemplation, he turned to face the door once more and knocked softly, loud enough so she would be able to hear, but not wanting to wake her if she had already fallen asleep.

On the other side of the door, Emily had just poured herself a glass of wine, listening to the soft sound of her stereo playing Norah Jones in the background. She had wanted to relax a little before crawling into bed, and had therefor decided to fix herself a steamy bath before bedtime. Hearing the soft knock on her door, she averted her attention away from her wine glass, head snapping up, curious as to whom could be knocking on her door just after eleven.

Always cautious, she slid her sig out of the drawer from her hallway table, and moved towards the door. Checking the peephole first, she her brow wrinkled in confusion when she saw her supervisor standing on the other side of her door.

It was not often that her home was open to guests, and she was the first to admit that visitors made her slightly uncomfortable. The only other time that Hotch and set foot in her apartment was during the Milwukee case, and both parties had been aware that his presence in her home had made her rather uncomfortable. Her home was her sanctuary, a calm place that was all hers, away from the horrors of her everyday job, along with the BAU—even those she cared about most, and she was very protective of it.

Tucking her gun into the waistband of her shorts, she switched the lock and threw open the door, meeting his gaze with a questioning one of her own.

"Can I come in?" He asked, with a questioningly amused tone to his voice in response to her obviously dumbfounded and cautious exterior.

"Oh right, I uh…Come in. Please." She said, clearing her throat after getting her surprise under control.

Opening the door wider, she stepping aside, letting him stride through her open doorway.

"Hotch?" She asked cautiously, knowing that having you supervisor show up at your doorstep when he should be sleeping was usually a sign that something was wrong. _Although, he doesn't seem to be full of tension like he normally is, so maybe nothing is wrong at all._

Hearing the underlying note of concern in her voice, he suddenly realized what the implications of him showing up on a subordinate's doorstep at such a late hour could possibly mean. After all, it wasn't very often that your boss came to your house in the middle of the night unless he had an absolute purpose, usually one with not so cheerful ramifications.

"Oh no, Prentiss, everything is fine. Nothing's wrong." He quickly stated, not wanting to make her worry needlessly.

"Alright good," she stated, breathing a sigh of relief. "So why are you—OH SHIT!" She exclaimed, running off down the hallway before yanking open a doorway across the hall.

Momentarily dumbfounded, he stood still in her kitchen wondering why his agent had just bolted off in the middle of her sentence.

Taking a few steps, he started to follow her to see what had so obviously caught her attention. Coming up behind her, he heard her mutter a string of curses under her breath before she emerged from the doorway.

Walking out from behind her bathroom door, Emily found herself nearly crashing into the form of her supervisor.

"Oh geez, sorry!" she said, sidestepping out from where she was trapped between his body and the now closed door.

"What's wrong?" He asked, still confused by her earlier departure.

"Oh, nothing's wrong. It's fine," she said sheepishly, feeling a slight blush rise to her cheeks.

Seeing the unexpected sign of embarrassment, he wasn't about to let it go that easily. As they once again reached the kitchen, she turned around to see his eyebrow questioningly raised at her in curiosity.

Rolling her eyes, she replied, "I uh, just forgot about my bath when you knocked on the door. I had left the water running in the tub."

Feeling a smile tugging at his lips, he tried to hide his amusement at her embarrassment. Apparently he was more unsuccessful than he had thought, judging by her increasingly frazzled expression. _Or maybe she was just getting better at differentiating my emotions,_ he thought. _More so than any other member of the team._

"What?!" She exclaimed, noting his amused and curious expression.

"Nothing—I uh, just hadn't pegged you as the bubble bath type," he sated in a matter of fact manner.

"Who doesn't like a bubble bath?!" She stammered defensively. "I happen to quite enjoy relaxing in the tub with a glass of wine every once in awhile."

Chuckling at her anxious demeanor he thought, _I don't think I've ever seen her this distraught. I must have really caught her by surprise. _

"No need to get worked up Prentiss, I was just making an observation. Although I just always had you pegged as one to not waste time with any unnecessary additions."

Seeing the logic in his statement, and how she figured that's how everyone on the team saw her, she nodded. After all, that is how she had wanted them to see her. Straightforward, no-nonsense, independent Agent Prentiss. Agent first, woman second. It had worked for her entire life, and this time was no different. And seeing how she had never spent any time with him outside of work, she understood that he saw her no differently now. But strangely enough, she felt the sudden need to share. To explain to him that she wasn't always the coolly composed Agent everybody constantly saw her as at work. Shaking off the sudden directional change of thought, she stored away those thoughts for later analysis.

"Yes, well one has got to clean themselves somehow, don't they Sir?" she said slightly teasingly yet somewhat self-conscious, wanting to redirect the conversation to a less personal depth. "Plus, I find that a bath once in awhile is quite calming."

Nodding his affirmation, he finally pulled the cell phone our of his pants pocket, holding out for her to take.

"Well I just stopped by thinking you might be needing this."

"Oh! I hadn't even realized it was gone! Thank you."

"Well that's most likely because you have mine. I figured that we had probably switched on the plane ride home. I realized I had yours just before I left the office an hour ago.

Not missing his statement about staying at the office so late at night after a case when everyone else had bid their goodbyes as soon as possible after switching out their issued SUV's for their own cars for the drive home, Emily quickly wondered just how buried Hotch had gotten in his work life. Eh, who was she kidding? Work _was _his life.

"Right, I should probably give that back to you then," she said, turning to bound up the stairs towards where she had placed her—_his _phone on her nightstand.

Taking the moment of silence to look around, he once again noticed the tidiness and tastefulness of her flat. The color scheme was vibrant yet subtle, with color splashes of red strewn throughout the decoration. He took note of a room connected to her living room, intrigued with the lack of door, and lack of decoration from what he could see of the interior. Heading across the living space, he stepped through the doorway, whistling lowly at the sparse contents of the room, not missing the worn quality of the equipment. His eyes swept over the rather large space, taking in the hardwood floors, the stereo system built into the wall, exercise and yoga mats stacked neatly in the corner, the street bike leaning up against the wall, an exercise bar hanging just below the ceiling, a large punching bag dangling from the ceiling, and a—wait what? Was that a ballet bar attached to the opposite wall? _Huh._

Trying his best not to profile the room, he turned on his heels and headed back out to where she had left him.

_No wonder she's in such good shape. But I sure wasn't expecting to find a full on work out—and dance gym in her house! _He thought, just as he heard the light thud of her footsteps on the stairs, signaling her return. She skipped lightly down the stairs, oblivious to the intense eyes of her supervisor watching her form, scrutinizing her movements. Admittedly or not, he was trying to figure her out, this new side to Emily that he had yet to fully discover, bubble bath and all. Within a few simple minutes of being in her home, he had learned more about the intensely private and illusive Emily Prentiss than he had learned in the past two years of working with her.

It made him want to know more.

Unaware that she was currently the center of his thoughts, she walked over to where he was standing, handing over the cell phone with a brilliant smile that made his chest leap into his throat. Confused as to his reaction—after all, he had obviously seen her smile like that before—he quirked his lip up in response with a quiet thanks as he made his way towards the front door. Resting her hand on the doorknob, she looked up as he nodded goodbye.

"See you on Monday Prentiss."

"Goodbye Hotch," she replied as she swiftly opened the door.

"GET DOWN!" Hotch yelled, tackling her to the floor with him, shielding her body with his own as the glass shards clattered around them.

**Ooh cliff-hanger! I couldn't help myself :) Hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Also, I forgot to mention previously that in this reality, even though it is way before season six, the whole thing with Doyle never happens, because that would be just way too much drama for one woman if both this story and the Doyle thing were to happen.**

**Please leave comments telling me in what direction you would like this story to go! I have a basic plan, but I'm always open to more ideas:)**

**Enjoy!**

**CHAPTER THREE**

Confused as to why her supervisor went from standing next to her in her doorway to lying on top of her on the ground, she cried out in pain as her head made contact with the mahogany flooring. Just as the falling glass from the subdued explosion had subsided, Emily felt strong arms wrapping around her arms and torso, being dragged away from underneath Hotch. With one glance towards her boss, she could see that there was not one, but two men desperately trying to stronghold him to the ground. Fighting for her life, she started ferociously kicking her legs, unsuccessfully trying to wriggle out of his vice-like grip. It wasn't until she felt the cold metal piece pressed into the nape of her neck that she stopped moving.

"QUIT STRUGGLING OR I SHOOT AGENT PRENTISS," the man behind her hollered.

Looking up to see that he really did have a handgun pressed to Emily's head, Hotch immediately stopped moving. Staring into Emily's eyes, she saw the terror and confusion written over her features. That was until a fourth man stepped through her doorway, and he watched with rapid attention as her eyes dilated in recognition. Eyes still wide with fury, he turned his attention over to the other man who was now staring attentively at Emily.

_Big build, roughly six foot, early thirties, alpha, strong, capable, dominant personality, ruthless, sadist. _

Hotch was categorizing every trait of the man, committing it to memory as the list ran through his head, in hopes that it would later come in handy.

_That is, if we live that long,_ he thought snidely.

Years of training on the job had made this screening process a habit, and today was no different. And like most other times, he didn't like what he saw. And especially didn't like the way the imposing man was looking at his coworker.

Since he had come straight to Prentiss' home from the office, he hadn't had a chance to remove either of his weapons, and was silently praying that they would be stupid enough to not search them. Granted, since they seemed to know Prentiss' name, he didn't think they would be so lucky seeing as she was obviously an agent, and would therefor be armed. But still, they had no reason to believe that he himself was armed, and Emily was clearly as non-threatening as he had ever seen her. A man could hope couldn't he?

Although Aaron Hotchner was commonly known as the best shot, and was even labeled as the "real gun hand" by John Blackwolf on that damn case in New Mexico, he knew that his weapons wouldn't assist him in a situation like this, while he was restrained from every side.

"Search them," the leader commanded, in a low and frighteningly calm tone, eyes never detaching from Emily's gaze.

_No such luck. Figures._

Feeling hands pat down his own body, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop them from confiscating either of his weapons, or Emily's sig that he had noticed in the back of her pajama shorts. Looking back at Emily, he saw the tight set of her jaw, and the fury building in her blazing eyes. It sickened him to see the man's hands roaming her body, not so subtly lingering in places that her gun most definitely would not be.

"Ah, Emily dear. You haven't changed a bit I see," the leader cackled, a sick smile plastered on his face at the clear discomfort his subject was in as the man behind her pulled the sig out of her waistband.

Eyes narrowing, she returned his musings with a hard, icy glare. When the hands stopped, the men holding Hotch and Emily were signaled with a nod of his head to tie them up.

While Hotch had initially realized that Emily had to have some connection to these men as it was HER home they had broken into so violently, he still had had hopes that she would not be the direct object of their attention. _Damn it. _

Being shoved down to the kitchen floor with Emily, they were handcuffed next to the island back to back, shoulders pressed tightly together.

"Why are you doing this Nicholas?" Emily started, attempting to get as much information out of him as possible.

"You don't get to call me that!" He bellowed. "You lost that right when you locked up my family! You get to call me Mr. Dames. And to answer your question simply; revenge."

"But why? You were never a part of the things your brother and father did. You were innocent," she said matter-of-factly, trying to calm him with a false sense of understanding and gentleness, not wanting to push to hard. "Why now, so suddenly?"

"It's not sudden, I've been plotting this for years! YEARS!" He screeched, obviously enraged even after all this time. "Did you honestly think I would let you walk around all high and mighty after what you did to my family?! You DESTROYED us."

"Mr. Dames, you father and brother were bad people. You know they had to be stopped, you even helped us at one point! I just don't understand how you got from the innocent young man you were, to _this," _she replied, emphasizing her point with a small head turn, gesturing around them.

"I don't have to explain this to you! You shouldn't GET to know."

"You're right, you don't have to explain this to me. You're in charge here."

"You bet your ass I'm in charge," he spat at her.

"But you still could choose to explain. After all, don't you want me to know why you're here, what exactly I should be paying for? Make me understand what changed."

Taking a moment to think about what she was saying, he finally seemed to come to a decision. Stepping closer to her, he squatted down to eye level, grabbing a fistful of her dark hair, pulling to yank her head back harshly. Hovering his lips right above her jaw he growled, "you bet I will make you understand. When I'm through with you, I'm sure you'll understand entirely too well. Like I said, you haven't changed one bit. I'm glad," he growled, placing a disgustingly wet kiss under her jaw line. Yanking her head to the side, she freed herself from his hold as he stood up slowly. Grinning he continued, "and clearly, age hasn't made you any less feisty either."

Trying not to shudder at the clear intent in his threat, she glared as he leered down at her.

Next to her, she hardly noticed that Hotch was nearly shaking with rage, angry not only for what they were putting them through, but for the clear sadism that had just been displayed with his _gesture._ Emily might not have noticed, but as their heads were within inches of each other, he had heard every word the man had snarled into her ear. And it made him sick. Repulsed at the thought that any man would want to hurt his agent in that kind of way. Of course he knew that lots of males found Emily attractive. Hell, even he would admit that he found her attractive, and had taken advantage of that on several different occasions, playing her into the hands of certain unsubs to gain the upper hand. Right off the bat he could think of two times he had done that—both when trying to get viper to talk, and on that case in Milwaukee by sending her into the house alone, knowing that she, individually, would be able to enter the house. But never had he witnessed this attraction so up close and personal, in such a threatening way. He didn't like it.

Pulled out of his thoughts, his attention shifted back to the man in front of them. He watched as Nick reached into his pocket, and pulled out a thumb drive and thrust it into Emily's face. "This. This is why I'm here."

Shifting his eyes over to the women next to him offering silent support, he noticed that she wasn't paying attention to him at all. While her eyes never left the body of the retreating man, he could feel her squirming ever so slightly, shifting in her seated position. _What is she up to?_

"Nick, we don't have much time, the cops are bound to show up soon," one of the men who had previously grabbed Hotch said, speaking for the first time. "What are we going to do next man?"

Jutting his chin out with a quick bob of his head, he gestured to the two men standing closest to him. "You two search upstairs, I'll look down here. Be fast and thorough, and don't come back down until one of us finds it," he said in a dismissive tone. Turning to face the younger man standing submissively near the pantry, called him over in a harsh tone. "You stay put. Stand right here, and make sure those two stay where they are. Got it?"

With a quick and frightened nod, the scrawny man jumped slightly as Nick abruptly turned on his heels before stalking into a nearby room.

Hearing the crashes coming from every direction in Emily's house, they knew that her apartment would not be in nearly the same shape that it was in before the men had arrived.

As soon as he had turned his back, Hotch felt Emily begin to shift more rapidly, until suddenly he felt his handcuffs pop open.

_How did she DO that?! _

Not wanting to draw attention to themselves, he sat in place while she quickly worked on her own cuffs using a bobby pin that she had had in her short's back pocket.

"Hurry, we don't have much time," she whispered as they popped open, glancing quickly up to the man standing a good few feet away from her. They both had gathered that he was the youngest of the group, the most like to slip up. With an unspoken glance, they each knew what their roles would be in the next part. Emily would discretely get his attention using her undeniable charm to call him over, while Hotch would rapidly take him out once he got close enough, before the young man even knew what was going on.

Sure enough, the plan worked as smoothly as they hoped it would, and Hotch quietly laid the unconscious boy on the floor so as not to make another sound.

He never knew what had hit him.

Pausing briefly to ensure that they had not been detected, they stood silently. Hearing the continued crashes from adjacent rooms, they knew that they had been successful. Motioning for Hotch to follow behind her, she grabbed her gun off the counter, seeing him do the same out of the corner of her eye. Silently making their way towards another door in the back of her kitchen that Hotch had previously missed in his earlier scan of her home, they hastily stepped through the doorframe, closing it tightly behind them so as not to leave a trace.

Knowing that it was only a matter of moments before they came back and found out that they were gone, Emily flipped n the lights in her garage, revealing the sleek, black Porsche 911 Carrera sitting closest to them, next to her navy blue four door sedan. Not taking any extra time to be amazed at what she had been hiding all this time in her dusty, unused garage, he followed her hasty orders to get in the car. Funny that he would be taking orders from her at a time like this. But there was no doubt about it, at this moment in time; Agent Prentiss was the one in charge.

He watched anxiously from his seat on the passenger side as she frantically picked up a black duffel bag from where it was resting on the floor, and spun on her heel, climbing into the car. As she opened the door to lower herself into the driving seat, he heard yelling coming from within the house, and then a single gunshot.

_Poor kid, he really seemed fairly innocent in all of this. Too bad we couldn't save him, _was Emily's last thought before she pressed the button on the roof of her car to open the garage door, and then peeled out of there like the house was on fire.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

After determining that they were a safe distance away from the house and that no one was following them, Hotch finally lost his usually tightly screwed lid on his bottle of emotions.

"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME WAS THAT?!" He screeched, still shaken up from the lasting adrenaline high. Emily had known that his outburst had been coming; she had been watching his left eyebrow twitch for the past two minutes, but that didn't stop her from wincing at his tone.

When Prentiss didn't reply, and remained silently staring past the dashboard focused on their hasty retreat with a tight, unwavering clench of her jaw, it enraged Hotch into near fury. But not aimed at her directly. Well at least not all of it. Oh no, this blinding rage was focused on this situation entirely, Prentiss' involvement being the least enraging. He was more concerned in exactly _how _she was wrapped up in all of this to begin with, and he could hardly restrain the worry from seeping into his voice, instead letting the anger show. Although, he felt that he had the right to know what the hell just happened, seeing as he was now very much a prominent part of it.

After sitting tensely in complete silence for a minute longer, they heard the unmistakable sound of sirens, and lots of them. And it suddenly hit Hotch: the team!

"Prentiss, the team! We need to call the team and tell them what's going on," he stated, flipping open his cell phone to dial Rossi's number. But before he could even get the phone to his ear, it was being yanked out of his hands by none other than the woman in the seat next to him.

"Prentiss, what the hell do you think you're doing?" He sputtered angrily, substantially surprised that anyone would even _think_ of doing that to him. He was well aware that he was one of the most feared agents in the BAU, and he chose to maintain that outward persona for the certainty of knowing that no one would ever question him, or dare to counter him. In their line of work, he couldn't have, _wouldn't _have anybody second-guessing his choices.

"Sorry Sir, but we can't alert the team to anything. It will only make the situation worse," she replied in a flat tone.

"How could you possibly know that? And just who do you think you are suddenly calling all the shots here?"

Emily had always known that he had a slightly anal, and one hundred percent dominant personality, but she was surprised, and if she was completely honest with herself, more than a little angry that he would pull out the 'boss man' card with her at this particular moment.

"Who am I? Who Am _I?_ _I'm _the one whose house just gotten broken into! _I'm _the one that they were after, and _I'm _the one who knows the entire situation, or even has any sort of clue as to what the hell is going on here! _You _are the one who has no fucking clue as to what just happened, and _you _are the one that is going to sit there in _my_ car and let someone else call the shots for once in your goddamn life! I will tell you again, and hopefully my words will sink in this time; calling the team will only make things worse. For everyone."

Opening his mouth to retort, he shut it again, having nothing to reply to that statement at the moment. He was completely taken aback by what had just been said to him by his subordinate. He had never, not in his entire career, heard someone speaking to him in such as disrespectful way. Opening and closing his mouth in frustration and confusion, his mind suddenly drew a blank on a logical counter to he statement. After all, she was right. He _didn't _have any clue what was going on, not in the slightest. And he knew that he was being a little bit anal, it was just that he was used to being in charge, used to having no one counter his decisions. Ever. And what had she done wrong, really? She grabbed the phone from his hand to stop him from making, in her opinion, a big mistake. If he was honest with himself, it was sort of refreshing in a way. It made him wonder what else she had been wanting to say to him over the years, but had instead held back.

Sitting to his left, Emily was silently reviewing all of the options she had for work after she had gotten fired. Because that was clearly what was going to happen here.

_God, I can't believe I actually SAID that to my boss! What is wrong with you Emily? Can't even keep your damn mouth such for two seconds._

She was absolutely appalled that she had said that to her boss, and sat staring out the windshield, trying to focus instead on her driving, well _speeding _rather, seeing as she was going a good fifteen miles per hour above the speed limit, rather than determining how angry he was.

_But he hasn't yelled at me, or said anything for that matter, so maybe it's a good sign. Or a bad one, _she thought dryly. _Maybe he's just trying to come up with a harsh enough verbal beating for me. Yeah, that's probably it._

"You're right Prentiss. I'm sorry."

But whatever she was expecting, it wasn't that.

"I—what? Oh uh, it's alright sir."

"But I would like to know why it is that we are leaving the team to find out that your apartment has been broken into and trashed and there is no sign of either one of us—from the news. You know what's going to happen when they do find out."

Thinking of it from that perspective immediately made her feel guilty for her decision. Although she knew it was the right one, she hadn't thought of the fact that the whole team would be beside themselves with worry when they found out what had happened at her apartment. And, their fear would escalate when they couldn't get ahold of their boss after hearing the news.

"I know that they will worry when they see the news. But we will be in touch with them before morning, so at least they will know we are safe. And that we are together."

"But you just said that we couldn't—"

Knowing what he was going to say, she cut him off with a wave of her had and said, "I know, Hotch. I'm not going to call, I said 'get in touch.'"

"Stop being so elusive Prentiss. What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that I have an alternate way of communicating with the team. Well Garcia and JJ to be exact. It's secure, and won't be able to be tracked. A few months ago after Garcia was shot and was on her medical leave from work, she set up a private chat room that could only be used by the three of us. And knowing her, she set up every cyber-wall and every protection she knows how, even though it was just a fun little site that we use to communicate," Emily said, softly smiling at the unnecessary precautionary measures that Garcia had taken. Measures that she now realized would connect them with the team at a time when they needed them most, and she silently sent a prayer of thanks to the quirky tech goddess. She just hoped that Garcia or JJ would think to check the website.

Hotch wasn't used to being confused. And right now, the curve ball he was getting prom Emily Prentiss was the biggest he had ever experienced. He was so befuddled with everything that was going on, he didn't even know what questions to ask. Being confused wasn't an emotion that he was particularly privy to, and he knew that Emily knew this as well.

If anything, Aaron Hotchner was a levelheaded, hyper-aware profiler. So he did what he did best. He profiled. Although he knew it was against bureau code, and more specifically, is own code of conduct, that thought was the furthest from his mind at that particular moment. If had previously been focusing more clearly on her overall demeanor before he went all 'boss man' on her, he would have seen the anxiousness in the way she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, anxiousness that was clearly not only from what had just happened, but from what was about to be shared. He would have seen that her reluctance to share information was not to make him mad, but because whatever it was she was hiding was something that she didn't feel comfortable talking about. And because he could clearly tell that she at least had more of an inkling as to what they were up against than he did, he knew that it was probably best to let her run things.

For now.

Watching as she nervously bit her lip and drummed her fingers, constantly checking her review mirrors, he was appalled that he hadn't recognized her behavior for what it was from the start. If she hadn't been so distracted with god knows what was going through her head, he knew that she would have noticed the sudden silence due to his lack of objection, or that he had been staring at her intently for almost a full minute now. As much as he hated not having immediate answers,and as close as he was to forcing her to stop the car and demand an explanation this instant, he didn't. And that was solely for one reason.

Emily Prentiss was scared.

More frightened than he had ever seen her. More than she had been in  
Joe Smith's workshop, or even in the compound with Benjamin Cyrus. And that fact alone unnerved him more than he could ever describe. Without realizing it, she had become the rock of the team, even more so than himself. Whenever he couldn't do what was expected of him as a friend, more so than a boss, Emily was the one to jump in. The one to stay coolly calm and composed in every situation, the one who could reach Spencer in a way that no one else could, who could calm Morgan's flaring temper with a simple look, and the one who could reduce an unsub to a cowering child during an interrogation. She had always been the female equivalent of himself, never wavering, always compartmentalizing, and it unnerved him for that composure to crack, even the tiniest bit. Because in a twisted way, his mind told himself that if she could crack, than so could he. And that scared the hell out of him.

After another half hour on the road undisturbed, Emily was finally calm enough to sit still in her seat. Looking to her right, she noticed that while Hotch was sitting rigid as always in his seat, his eyes were repeatedly drooping shut, and then suddenly widening again as he realized he was drifting off.

"Hotch, why don't you get some sleep?" She said, hoping that he would need little convincing on this topic. She could use a bit of time by herself to get herself under control. He had seen her usually permanently placed emotional mask slip more than enough today, and she was looking forward to a few hours to think without his adamant presence hovering over her, silently demanding answers.

But, seeing the incredulous look he shot at her, she knew that he wasn't going down without a fight—even though he knew that his body would soon betray him anyways.

"I for one took a nap when I got home after the case. You on the other hand haven't slept for almost twenty hours, and no one got more than four hours rest the night before either. I'm planning on driving for awhile longer—maybe through the night, I'm not sure. But I promise that you aren't going to miss anything falling asleep just this once Hotch."

Glancing at the clock that read almost 2am, he knew that he was fighting a loosing battle, both with his body, and the woman next to him.

Seeing the logic in her statement, he nodded towards her, silently giving in.

"But if anything—I mean ANYTHING happens while I'm asleep, I want you wake me up right away. Got it Prentiss?" he said, throwing her a stern glare to make sure she knew that he was dead serious.

"Got it Sir," she replied with a slight twitch to her upper lip, happy that he had complied much easier than she initially thought he would have.

_He must be even more tired than I thought._

"Goodnight Hotch," she said in a softer tone than she had previously been using.

"Goodnight Prentiss."

**Okay, I just had to put in the little rant of Emily's. I thought it worked considering the stress they were under, as well as Hotch's obvious controlling personality. Plus, I view Emily as kind of a 'no-bullshit' kind of person so I thought it was fitting. **

**And don't worry, answers are coming soon! **

**Hope you enjoyed! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, this is a really long one, hopefully making up for the next upcoming chapter, which is quite a bit shorter. Please know that I have absolutely no knowledge of anything of the CIA of FBI or anything, so I apologize in advance for anything that is incorrect! **

**CHAPTER FIVE**

It was 3am when Emily finally took an exit off the freeway and pulled into a small parking lot just off the road. She had intended to drive through the night, but found that she was too tired to go any longer. Knowing that she would wake up in time with the sun, she decided not to bother checking into a motel for the few hours it would be before she took off again. Yawning, she pulled the keys out of the ignition and looked over at where her boss was still sound asleep in the passenger seat. Frowning slightly, she noticed that he looked rather uncomfortable, slouched awkwardly against his window. Knowing that he would pay for that position in the morning, she stealthy got out of the car and walked over to the passenger side. Opening his door, she softly placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned around him to unclick his seatbelt before bending down to quickly untie his laces, slipping his shoes off his feet. Standing back up, she realized that there wasn't much she could do about his suit jacket unless she was to wake him up, but she still wanted him to have a little less restriction in his sleep. Reaching out, she cautiously undid his tie and slid it out form around his neck before reaching under the seat to grab the small handle, leaning his seat back as far as it could go, to an almost flat surface. Finished, she stood straight, and looked around at their surroundings for a moment in the early morning air. Surrounding the small rest stop were countless trees, and a small, yet well kept looking restroom a few yards away from where she had parked. Seeing that they were the only cars in the lot, she was satisfied that they weren't going to have any trouble with any curious travelers tonight. Shivering slightly as a breeze swept by, she finally noticed the slightly brisk temperature of the nighttime air. Stepping around to the back end of the car, she opened the trunk and reached to the very back, pushing aside the black duffel bag she had previously grabbed from her garage. Even before her time at the BAU, Emily Prentiss was always one to be prepared. Knowing that she had a more haunted past than most members of her team put together, she wholeheartedly believed in being prepared for anything. Although her work go-bag consisted of a mere few items to tide her over while on a case, this bag contained much more, though that would come in handy for later use. Instead, she reached around the bag where she had previously placed a set of fleece blankets. A few hours prior, Emily had stopped at a Walmart knowing that they would be open late, and grabbed a few things for the road. While she was prepared to make an escape on her own, she wasn't however prepared to drag along another person, a man at that. So, she had purchased a few items of casual clothing, knowing that he would want a change in the morning, blankets, and a second toothbrush for her companion. She figured that they would stop again someplace in the morning to really stock up.

Satisfied, she quietly shut the trunk before heading back around to the passenger door. Draping the blanket around his shoulders, she tiredly climbed in the opposite seat and immediately fell asleep.

When Hotch woke up, he was instantly alert. Everything that had happened the previous day came rushing back to him like a bad dream. Groaning out loud, he leaned back and covered his eyes with his hand. Hearing a small 'hmm' from the woman next to him, he looked over at her with a soft smile. Despite the confining sleeping space, she had still managed to sprawl herself out across the front seat, blanket tangled around her. Her head was tilted toward him resting on her arm, and he saw her brow dip as a grimace crept across her pretty face. Glancing down at his own body, he noted that he had been laid back with a blanket, and both his shoes and tie had been removed. _Huh. _No wonder he slept more comfortably than he would have thought while being in a car. _That was nice of her. _He felt a small swell of pride for the woman next to him. He was so lucky to have a person like her on his team. A caring, smart, thoughtful, intelligent, strong woman who would take the time to perform such small favors for someone who had been snapping her head off just hours before.

Once again hearing a soft mewling from his left, he saw her thrash her leg out, just as she let out a soft cry as if she was in pain. Quickly reaching over, he placed his hand on her shoulder with the intentions of waking her up.

"Prentiss, wake up! You're dreaming. Emily! Wake up," he said, delicately shaking her shoulder.

With a final jolt, she bolted upright, nearly taking out his hand as she sat up. Breathing hard, she frantically looked around to make sure that _he _wasn't there, before throwing her blanket off of her and abruptly stood up out of the car.

Watching her actions with confusion, he too quickly pulled on his shoes and stood up out of the car. Groaning, his back let out a loud 'pop' as he stood upright. Moving around to the other side of the car, he placed a hand on one of her shoulders and stood directly in font of her.

"You okay?" he asked, a concerned frown on his usually stoic features.

"Ye—Yeah. I'm fine. Really," she responded, managing a little smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Not wanting him to know that her dream was in actuality about their current situation in relation to her past one, she continued without a pause.

"Sorry about the sleeping arrangements. I didn't want to find a place to crash after I quit driving," she continued, gesturing slightly towards the car.

Knowing that she didn't want to talk about whatever it was that was bothering her, he let her change the subject, if only for the reason that he would have done the exact same thing in her position. Weaknesses were not something that he allowed to show, ever. And he knew that Emily was the same in that respect as well.

"It was fine Emily, I actually slept quite well. Thanks for the uh…blanket," he said awkwardly, not wanting to mention the fact that for all intensive purposes, she had 'undressed him,' however so slight, and positioned him in his sleep, platonic as it may have been. Not missing the awkward pause, or the use of her first name, Emily nodded in return.

"Plus, it's not like we have any money to stay at a hotel with. All I have is my credit card and a few dollars in my wallet," Hotch continued, frowning slightly at the realization that they would have to either stay in the car for how ever long this trip would take, or they needed to come up with some cash, and quick. Deep in thought, he barely heard Emily pipe up awkwardly. "Umm…actually we do."

"What?" he said, looking up at her abruptly in confusion.

"We do. Have money I mean. I have enough to keep us comfortable for a while longer."

"How much?" he asked doubtfully, seeing as she was still very much in her pajamas from the previous night, and therefor had no wallet, or shoes for that matter, and he had not seen her grab any cash in their hasty exit.

"Umm, I'm not sure. Let me check."

Watching as she returned to her seat, she sat down with one, very long, very BARE leg still hanging out of the car, and reached beneath her seat. Seeing her tap in a quick code, she pulled open the handle to a little black box beneath her seat that he had previously not noticed.

"Prentiss, you have a safe built in underneath your seat?" He asked, surprise written all over his face. When she didn't answer, he moved a little closer, and watched as she emptied the contents. Cash, a gun and a passport. _Figures_. Watching as she counted the money, his bewilderment raised another notch.

"Seventeen hundred dollars! You carry almost two thousand dollars in your car!?" He screeched, half shocked that she even had that kind of money on hand, in a getaway car no less, and the other half appalled at the danger of having a gun along with so much money in her car. Every minute he spent with her, he was learning more about the Emily Prentiss that she had clearly never let him see. And judging from the fact that she hadn't heard any members of the team talking about the expensive car in her garage, a side that no one had seen. _Who was this? A person who keeps a getaway car stocked with cash in her garage, someone with enough of a past to have people breaking into her house in the middle of the night, someone who is so calm and skilled under pressure_? _She hasn't freaked out once in this whole ordeal!_ Aaron Hotchner always prided himself in knowing his team members inside and out, knowing what they were capable of and of how close they all were as a team. Now he was starting to see that maybe there was more to Emily Prentiss than he initially had thought, and that both excited and confused him.

Both himself and the team often forgot how well off Emily most likely was, as she didn't advertise or flaunt her money as Dave did. As the daughter of a diplomat, he was sure that she had a substantial sum set aside from her family, along with her income as an FBI agent. It was only now, reflecting on the car that they had driven here in along with the cash in her lockbox and the expensive quality to her apartment that he realized just how affluent she actually was.

"Yeah well, like someone always tells me; you should always be prepared," she said with a small grin looking up from where she was seated blow him, sending his heart racing a mile per minute at the sexy, sly look she was shooting him. Never before had he been so utterly enticed by her, and he found himself wanting to know more about this side of the woman he thought he knew. He had always known that Emily was a good, well-rounded agent, but this was something different entirely.

Oblivious to Hotch's thoughts, Emily placed the items back in the box underneath her seat. Popping the trunk, she reached into the black duffel bag she had brought, pushing aside the other items, grabbing the clothes she had bought for Hotch.

"Here you go, thought you might need these," she said, tossing the small pile over to her boss.

Looking at what she had given him, he suddenly realized that with this woman, he would never ceased to be amazed. Sorting through the pile of clothes, he found that it was complete with faded jeans, a black T-shirt, socks, boxers, and Tennis shoes to complete the look.

"Yeah, what else you got in that black bag of yours? How about a plane ticket to Hawaii and a nice breakfast?"

Amazed that her boss had just cracked a joke, she looked up and replied with a sly grin. "Not quite, sir. But I do have some clothes, my laptop, a couple extra clips, and a few other things in here. I stopped by the store last night to get those clothes for you as I wasn't really prepared to have a man with me, although I would have been happy to let you borrow some clothes," she said teasingly. "But I figured we could stop again in a while to pick up some other necessities."

"Sounds good. But you know Emily, you uh, don't always have to call me Sir. Actually, I would prefer that you didn't, although don't think I don't notice the sarcasm," he said with a smirk. "And as we are very clearly NOT on duty, I wouldn't mind being called by my first name."

Mouth rounding into a silent 'o' of surprise at his inquiry, she looked up at his face and saw the seriousness of his request. _Well okay then._

"Sure thing, _sir,"_ she replied, with an extra emphasis on the sir, accompanied by a subtle wink.

Rolling his eyes at her very Emily-like response, he looked back down to where her hands were once again rummaging through the bag. And upon seeing the clips and other items in the bag, all sense of lightheartedness fled his mind, demeanor returning to a more serious note.

Emily immediately noticed the change in his gaze, and held up a hand before he could open his mouth. "I know what you're thinking. I guess it's time for me to explain," she said dejectedly, motioning for him to follow her over to the nearest park bench. Sitting opposite from each other, she started her story knowing that there was no one around in the early morning light to overhear their conversation.

"Fourteen years ago I was finishing my final year at Yale when I got recruited by the CIA."

"CIA? What—?"

"Let me finish," she said, holding up her hand. "I know you're confused but I'll explain everything." Taking a deep breath, she started again. "Like I said, I was recruited by the CIA. They wanted me to join a special task force revolving around an intelligence department. Because of my extensive education along with my linguistic skills, I fit right in, and quickly became a member of an elite team tasked with tracking down and eliminating terrorist organizations all over the world. After spending almost seven years on the team and eventually advancing to team leader, I took part in an undercover operation, the deepest I have ever gone. There was a family who lived on a huge property in Pakistan who were plotting an attack on the U.S, taking out as many civilians as possible in the process. The CIA infiltrated their system, and I was the head of the strategizing department of undercover agents while simultaneously posing as a deals advisor in the household of the target for many months before the case went south. Somehow, our information was leaked and they learned of my identity as well as that of my partner's. We were uh, held hostage for a brief amount of time before our team stepped in to get us out of there." Not missing the slight pause in her words, Hotch's eyes darkened at the thought of her being held prisoner for any length of time in such an unforgiving situation. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he listened as she continued.

"Before we had been discovered, we had found all the information that was needed to take them down, and were able to send the information back to base before we were exposed. During the process of our rescue and simultaneous takedown, the main suspect who was the head of the household was killed along with his wife and eldest son. The other members were put in a high security prison for life. The youngest son, Nicholas Dames, was fifteen and had no clue as to what his family had been a part of. It was my guess that as he got older, it would have been his father's intentions to introduce him to the family business. That boy was the same man that broke into my apartment last night," she finished, leaning back form her hunched forward position at the picnic table looking up towards her supervisor's expression.

To a bystander, they would have looked like any other couple having an intimate conversation at the rest stop, leaned towards each other talking quietly. But to Emily, she could easily pick up on the tension radiating off of her boss, and the set to his jaw and the stiffness of his shoulders. Waiting patiently for him to reply, she stared blankly at his expressionless features.

_CIA. That makes sense. _Thinking about it, Hotch realized that he probably should have realized from the start that Emily had not come from a desk job. From the very first day, she had excelled in all aspects of the job, especially field work. The kind of skill that she had displayed over the years is not that of a woman who had little to no experience. Not only was it her skills, but also other aspects of her personality that suddenly clicked into place. How she was so untrusting of other people, how no one could ever sneak up on her. And boy, had he seen Morgan try. How she was so good at hand to hand combat that she had pinned Derek on more than one occasion, and how her compartmentalizing skills were on par, if not better than his own.

There were so many questions running through Aaron Hotchner's head that he didn't know which one to address first. Although one thing she said had stood out to him above everything else, he knew that he was in no position to ask her such a personal, and most likely classified, question regarding her hostage situation. But in that moment, he wanted nothing other than to grab her hand and ask her exactly what she had meant when she told him that they were 'held hostage.' After working with Emily for over two years, he was well aware that she had a slightly dark side to her, similarly to that in himself. He had seen it in her during momentary slips in her unfaltering mask during particularly brutal cases, or when she dove into that side of her to connect with an unsub during an interrogation. God knows that he knew how it felt to be able to connect with the bad guy, the person who had turned out to do the killing instead of stopping it. And he was more than vaguely aware that many men's views of women in the middle east along with how ruthless terrorists could be, did not paint a pretty picture. And, Hotch had witnessed more than once how poorly many hostage situations turned out. Suddenly, he thought back to her nightmare in the car. _Oh god. Is that what she was dreaming about? Did last night bring back buried memories of her time working on this case? _

Although on the inside he was having a very concerning revelation, outwardly, his expression was as masked as ever. He suddenly felt an indescribable amount of relief at the fact that nothing else had happened to her last night in her apartment. Thinking back, he was repulsed at the clear intentions that Nicholas had displayed towards Emily, and he was once again appalled that someone would want to hurt her like that.

Knowing what he thinks he knows now about her past, Hotch couldn't even describe how he would have felt if anything like that had actually happened to her.

And then, for a moment, he was frozen in utter terror. _What if something like that HAD happened to her. And I would have no fucking clue! _

_I think it's been established quite well Aaron that you don't really know anything about her or her past_, _so what makes you think that all the terrible things that are running through your mind right now HASN'T happened to her? _

_Oh my god, what am I going to do? This isn't something that you can just come right out and ask, especially seeing how we are NOT close. This isn't something that you ask someone EVER. _

Burying his mental conversation and attempting to slide out of full panic mode, he brought his eyes up to hers and swallowed thickly, knowing that she was waiting for him to say something.

Emily saw something briefly flash through his dark eyes, but shook off the weird feeling when he started to speak.

"Why isn't this in your file?" He asked quietly.

Although Emily had expected this question to come up, she had thought that he would have been angry at her for keeping such information from the team. Instead, he sounded dejected, more hurt that he had not been privy to such a large part of her life.

"I requested that it not be," she started cautiously. "After the case was completed, my team all split up. We had had enough of such demanding work, and we all headed off in different directions. I wanted to start fresh, with a clean slate."

"But your position with the CIA could have gotten you so many places. Why give that up to become a profiler? That's a huge downgrade considering that you went from team leader to a subordinate in the FBI."

"Yes, I have to say that was quite a struggle," she replied with a knowing glance in Hotch's direction. "But I didn't want my past to interfere with my image now. Who I am now is a lot different than who I was back then. Not that you would guess with the complexness of the situation we are in now," she said with a humorless chuckle. "I just wanted a clean slate."

"So they just made up your file? Nothing in it is true?"

"Well to be honest, I haven't read it. I asked for an inconspicuous simple job background and for my past with the CIA to be wiped completely. It was easily doable with the recourses we had, and no one objected to any of the requests for a transfer after that case." But what she didn't mention, was that that wasn't all that she had asked for to be wiped clean. They had completely emptied her file, leaving only what was necessary to be believable, clearing both her time with CIA, along with the long list of injuries and record of her extended medical leave.

They had wiped everything, almost a decade of her life per her request.

Identifying with the notion of wanting a clean slate and the feeling of being burnt out with what you do everyday, Hotch understood where she was coming from completely. And yet, although he knew that her past life was highly classified, it didn't stop him from being slightly hurt that she had not trusted the team with this information. Trusted him. Not that he had made it easy for her to trust him in the beginning, but still. And the fact that even the simplest of facts that he knew about her, like for instance what was in her file, were incorrect, along with every other notion he had had about Emily Prentiss bothered him considerably.

But instead of telling her this, he hid his feelings and continued their conversation regarding the case. "So what has the son been doing all these years to get him where he's at now, a clear sadist," he said, once again reflecting on his previous words and gestures towards Emily, "if he had no involvement in the family business?"

"That's what we need to find out. Clearly he wants revenge on me for the murder and jailing of his family as I was the head of the infiltration, but it seems to be more than that. Did you see the flash drive he pulled out of his pocket? I'm guessing a large portion of it has to do with that. And Nick is nothing if not determined. He may not be the brightest man to walk the earth, but he has endless resources. From now on, we need to presume that everything we do is being monitored. We need to stay away from anything traceable, make sure we aren't leaving a trail. I'm sure that he has lots of people supporting him, and there's no saying what he could do. Even back when he was a kid, his family was a highly targeted group of international criminals with limitless supplies. With his family name, I'm sure that he has more contacts than either you or I put together, including people willing to do all the scut work for him; the things that actually require a somewhat advanced level of intelligence. We need to be careful Hotch."

Nodding in agreement, Hotch looked towards the parking lot where another car was just pulling in, gathering his thoughts, struggling to take in everything she had just told him. He hadn't realized just how dangerous this man was, and it chilled him to the bone to think that if he hadn't arrived at her apartment last night, Emily would be doing this all alone. And he would be on the other side, worrying about her like crazy. Like the team probably was.

"Emily, we need to contact the team. It's been several hours, I'm sure they've heard the news by now."

"Glad we're on the same page finally," she said with a wink, standing up to retrieve her laptop from it's place in the trunk.

When she returned, she sat on the same side of the bench as Hotch, giving him a better view of how she was accessing the team. When the desktop appeared on the screen after a moment, Hotch almost burst out laughing.

"Really Prentiss?" he choked, trying to contain his amusement.

Blushing profusely, Emily attempted, with no avail, to shift the computer out of his line of sight. Although she was quite enjoying the view of her supervisor trying to stifle his laughter, she was rather embarrassed by exactly WHAT had caused that amusement.

"Hotch, let me just say that I don't know how—"

"—Save it Emily, excuses wont get you far with this one," Hotch interjected in a mocking tone.

Groaning out loud, Emily returned her focus to the computer screen, muttering curses towards Garcia that had Hotch chuckling at her side. Opening up an icon on her computer screen that Garcia had specifically downloaded for her she typed out a message asking Garcia to reply if she was online, clicked send, and sat back to wait for a response.


	6. Chapter 6

**I just want to say a big thanks to everyone for all of your kind reviews! They really do help me get this story going a little bit faster. Like I said with the last update, this chapter is considerably shorter, but hopefully just as good! Also, I'm sorry for the lack of updates but I've been really busy with the start to summer and all, and honestly I'm feeling a tad bit uninspired. Oh well :(**

**Here you go!**

**CHAPTER SIX**

Despite it only just nearing six o'clock in the morning, Spencer Reid was wide-awake. Having only been able to sleep for just over three hours the previous night, he was lazily staring at his television in his living room, clutching his second cup of coffee that morning. Sighing at the lack of interesting documentaries on the TV so early, he looked at the clock, determining that if he was slow enough and stopped for breakfast on the way into the office, he could start getting ready now and still be there no earlier than eight. Just as he was about to click off the television, he saw a red banner appear at the bottom of the screen, signifying the breaking news report. Turning up the volume, he rapidly stared at the screen, barely believing what he was seeing. Blindly reaching for his phone, his first call was to Hotch. No answer. Not wanting to waste any time, his second call was to Jennifer Jareau, in hopes that the media lesion would have any information as to what was going on.

Hearing the sleepy hello at the other end of the line, Reid frantically told her to turn on the television immediately. After waiting a minute while she hoped out of bed to turn on the TV, he heard a soft mumble on the other side.

"My God," JJ murmured into the speaker, staring at the TV. On the screen in front of her were flashes of her best friend's apartment, windows blown out with the front door busted open. A reporter than appeared on the screen reporting that 'there has been no trace of the occupant of the apartment or the attackers, and the police are doing everything they can to ensure the safety of the public and find who's responsible.'

Spinning on her heels in search of her work attire, she hurriedly spoke into the phone to Reid. "Gather the rest of the team, tell everyone to meet at the office in thirty minutes."

Snapping the phone shut, she rapidly got dressed and ran out the door, briefly stopping to inform Will of the situation.

Forty-five minutes later, Penelope Garcia was sitting in her cave, attentively searching her computer screens for anything and everything to clue the team in as to where Emily had disappeared to. The team had gathered immediately around the conference room before they all set off respectively to figure out what the hell was going on. Rossi and Morgan were on site at Prentiss' apartment, demanding information from the police officers, inquiring as to why the BAU wasn't notified first thing when they figured out that the occupant of the house worked for the FBI. JJ's phone was glued to her ear, talking animatedly with reporters and detectives, while Reid had been sent to Hotch's house to figure out why he wasn't in the office yet, or answering his cell phone.

Reid waked hurriedly up the steps of this boss' apartment. Raising his fist, he knocked three times and waited for an answer. Knocking again, more rapidly this time, he yelled through the door, "Hotch it's Reid, open up! It's an emergency!"

Hearing nothing on the other side, no reply or even the sound of footsteps shuffling toward the door, he reached for the spare key in his pocket.

After Penelope had been shot, Hotch made sure that everyone needed to provide a spare key to at least one member of the team. Although Hotch had given his key to Rossi, Dave had pressed it into Reid's hand before they had taken off, just in case. Pulling out his sig, he slid the key into the lock and stepped through the door, worried at what he might find. Quickly clearing the house, it was no surprise that his boss wasn't home. Reid shoved is gun back into it's holster and searched for any evidence signifying that Hotch had made it home the night before. Stepping back out into the hallway and shutting the door behind him, he turned around and ended up face to face with an elderly woman standing right in front of him.

"Oh! Hello Ma'am." Reid said with a nod of his head. When he was about to step past the woman, she said in a kind voice, "are you looking for the man that lives right there? Mr. Aaron something?"

"Yes, actually I am," Reid said, surprised that she knew who he was looking for. "Do you happen to know where he's at by chance?"

"No, darlin' I don't. But I do know that he never made it home last night. I'm a light sleeper and I usually hear him walking up those there stairs."

"Thank you Ma'am, that was quite helpful," Reid said, stepping sideways past the elderly woman. "You have a good day now son," she called after him.

"You too, and thank you!"

Racing back to the BAU, his worry for both Emily and Hotch had only been heightened. Bursting into the conference room, he found all members of the team sitting around the conference table, save Garcia.

"Guys. Hotch isn't at his apartment. He never made it home last night, his keys and gun weren't there and his neighbor didn't hear him come in last night."

"Dammit," said Rossi, shaking his head at the table. "Is there any chance that this could be connected?"

"The chances that two agents from the FBI out of Virginia's population of 8,001,024 people would disappear on the same night is approximately —"

"Slim, yeah we know kid," said Morgan tiredly. "So this is connected? But how?"

"That's what we need to figure out. But until we do, we need to be careful. There's no saying that we aren't all targets as well."

Nodding in agreement, everyone started to stand up just as they heard the sound of Penelope's voice yelling from her lair. Sprinting across the bullpen, Morgan was the first one to burst through the door with the other members close behind. "What is it baby girl?"

"Look, my gumdrop is contacting us."

"Emily? Is she using the chat room?" interjected JJ.

"She sure is! I knew when I set that up that it would come in handy!"

Hurriedly clicking on the little blue mailbox, a message appeared on the screen.

_E: PG, reply when you get this, it's an emergency. _

_P: Gumdrop! Are you okay? What happened?_

_E: I'm fine PG, I'll explain everything. Hotch is with me too._

Breathing a sigh of relief for their boss, everyone was happy that they were not only safe, but also together.

_P: Boss man is with you? We were so worried! Where are you two?_

_E: I'm sorry PG, I can't tell you. I know you all are worried and I'm sorry. I would have contacted you last night but there was no time._

_P: What happened Em? What's going on?_

_E: A group of men broke into my apartment last night. It has to do with an old case from before I joined the FBI._

_P: Why is Hotch with you?_

_E: He was at my apartment last night when they broke in. Bad timing is all. Listen, I promise I'll explain everything after this is all over, but right now I need a favor._

_P: Anything sweet-cheeks. _

_E: I need you to look up a Nicholas Dames. Give me everything you got, just send the info through this chat room. We're laying low for a while but we'll be in contact._

_P: Will do gumdrop. Anything else?_

_E: Stay safe and be discrete. I'll be in touch when I can._

_E: And Pen? My screen saver, really? _

Before Penelope could begin to reply, Emily had signed off. A startled Garcia jumped slightly as there was a sudden slam on her desk beside her, jostling her mugs of decorative pens. Hitting the table with his open palm, Morgan folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes trying calm down. He couldn't stand the thought of either one of them being in danger. Emily was like his own sister. And Hotch, well even though he could be a real pain in the ass, Derek knew that Hotch cared about them all as if they were family. "We've got to do something man," he said looking towards Rossi.

"I know Derek. But they're smart, they know how to stay out of trouble. They'll be safe."

"I know, but for how long? And why are they running from us? We could help! Instead, she barely even tells us what's going on!"

"I know, but it's a start. It's more than we had even ten minutes ago Derek."

"We need to find them, man. Bring them back."

"Agreed. Garcia, you stay here and get everything you can on Dames. We need the information as much as Emily does. Also, see if you can find any trail of Emily and Hotch. Look at security cameras, credit cards, everything. JJ, call Haley and let her know what's going on. Also, we need Ambassador Prentiss down here to see if she knows anything about this case. We need to start building a profile."

"A profile?" Reid piped up. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, I'd feel weird about profiling Emily and Hotch, looking into their pasts and everything."

"I know kid, me too. But I think it's necessary considering the circumstances," replied Rossi. "Garcia, I know this is going to be uncomfortable but you need to dig into both of their pasts, uncover anything and everything you can find."

"Yes—yes Sir," stuttered Penelope nervously.

Walking out of Penelope's lair, each team member went their respective directions, all silently worrying about what they were going to have to do in order to find their teammates, and whether or not it would be worth it in the long run. Only JJ remained, sticking her head back through the doorway at the last second. "Hey PG?"

"Yeah sunshine?"

"What did you set Emily's desktop as?"

Chuckling softly reflecting on the picture of a shirtless Derek Morgan with his head photo shopped to be replaced by that of Sergio's furry face, she said haughtily, "wouldn't you like to know," sending a wink in JJ's direction before she spun her chair around and focused on her computer screens.

**Did you like? :) Leave a review for me por favor!**


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**Alright, here it is! Leave me a review; it is greatly appreciated!**

After picking up a few necessities as well as two disposable cell phones and extra ammo, the pair was once again on the road. With much arguing and debating over breakfast, Emily finally convinced Hotch that the main thing they needed to do was to lay low. She maintained that they could still plot against Dames on their own with minimal help from the team as long as they stayed out of sight for a few days. Now, they were headed North towards New York with much protesting from Hotch.

"I still don't see how being in New York is going to help us any," sighed Hotch.

"I have contacts there," Emily replied stiffly, tired up putting up with his resignation and obvious disagreement with her decision.

"Oh?" Replied Hotch with interest. Although, why he was surprised at what spewed out of her mouth at this point he did not know.

"Yeah. A good friend of mine lives there. She will be able to help us out."

"She?"

"Yes, _she. _An old partner of sorts. We've known each other long before that though. She will be able to provide us with a place to stay, as well as a few resources for finding this guy."

"Does she know we are coming?"

"Yes. I called her while you were in the bathroom. That's the main reason I got the disposable phones."

Shaking his head in amazement, he briefly wondered if there was anything that this woman wasn't prepared for.

"And here I was thinking that you just wanted a way to hear my pretty voice if we got separated," Hotch said wryly.

Jerking her head to the side in confusion, she briefly wondered if she heard him right. Seeing the coy smile forming on his lips, she reckoned that she did. Lips spreading into a wide grin, Emily broke out into laughter at her boss' unexpected comment.

Seeing Emily laugh so heartily at his comment, he felt his own partial smile grow a little wider, strangely enough finding that he liked making Emily laugh. Her laugh was so buoyant and erotic, vibrating her chest as she tossed her head back. Not at all like he had expected. Of course, he had heard her laugh before, but usually just chuckles around JJ and Garcia or Morgan. Nothing like this, nothing quite so…erogenous. Studying her relaxed body in the driver's seat, he realized that this was probably the most open and relaxed that he had ever seen her. Strange, considering that they were on the run form a group of terrorists, but nevertheless. Gaze landing once again on her exposed throat, he found himself wanting to reach over to see if that skin was just as soft as it looked. Quickly scolding himself for where is train of thought was heading, he shook his head and looked back out the windshield. As her laughter died down, he felt her gaze on him, and his head unintentionally shifting to look at her.

Feeling her cheeks heat up, she swiftly turned her head back towards the windshield.

_Oh gosh did he see me staring at him? What were you even doing?!_

_Well if you must know, I was recognizing how attractive he is. Dimples! He has dimples! _

_You idiot, he's your boss. And don't even go there because now he thinks you're a blushing idiot. _

Those were Emily's thoughts as she concentrated all of her will power on looking straight ahead, rather than back towards him where she felt his eyes boring into her face.

_Is she blushing? Why is she blushing? It looks nice, it adds a tad bit of color to her pale cheeks. It makes her look a little bit more vulnerable, more womanly rather than the stony looking agent that she usually—wait, no really, why is she blushing? Did I do something to embarrass her? She probably noticed you staring at her and was creped out by it. Dumbass. Great job Aaron. _

Reaching for the stereo to stall the awkward silence, Emily turned it to her favorite radio station, 103.7 as they cruised down the road.

A few hours later they had finally arrived in New York. Navigating the streets quickly, Emily parked her car and pulled up to a nice looking apartment building with Hotch right on her heels. Glancing sideways at Hotch, they started across the street and made there way up to the fifth floor, making quick work of the stairs, doing their best to stay out of as many security cameras as possible. When Emily finally signaled at Hotch to stop walking, they were standing in front of a doorway at the end of the hall. Raising her first, she knocked softly, rapping her knuckles on the wooden door. It was only a few moments until they heard rapid footsteps coming towards them, and the door was flung open. Standing on the other side of the door was a lanky yet strongly built woman who looked to be in her mid thirties. She sported a pair of nicely fitting jeans and a loose blouse that hung pleasantly around her thin frame. Her slightly wavy hair only just grazed her shoulders and was a rich chestnut color, not nearly matching the darkness of Emily's near black hair. When she stepped into the open doorway completely, he found her staring at him with a harshness that didn't seem to fit with her otherwise soft features.

"Who is this?" She asked harshly, nodding her head towards Hotch while shifting her eyes towards Emily. He noted that as she did so, her eyes immediately softened, morphing into a kinder expression that fit better on her face.

"My boss," Emily replied evenly.

"Aaron Hotchner," Hotch said while extending his hand towards the woman. Watching as she briefly glanced down at his outstretched hand and then snapped her eyes back to Emily, Hotch slowly withdrew his hand, lowering it back to his side.

"Are you sure you want him with you?"

"He's fine Diane, he's with me."

"But you always do this kind of shit alone, other people just slow you down. Other people's dragging ass' will just get you killed, you've said it yourself."

"You don't have to worry about that D, he can hold his own," Emily said with a small smirk. "I know I didn't really give you a good explanation on the phone, but I promise everything is fine with him, okay? If you wont accept that he is with me, then I'll be leaving too."

Studying her friends face and contemplating her words, Diane saw the sincerity in her eyes, backing up everything that she had just said about the man standing next to her. She knew that Emily usually wanted nothing more than to get things done on her own without having to watch other peoples ass', but the loyalty that she had to this man was clear. And if Emily trusted him, so did she. Nodding towards Emily, her eyes traveled back to the handsome man standing questioningly in the hallway. Holding out her hand as a peace offering, she gave him a warm smile. Seeing the slight apology and warmth of her features, he knew that she could be trusted. Not only was she a confidante of Emily's, but also was obviously rather protective of the woman as well. He probably would have done the same thing if he were her.

"Diane Sholtz," she said, feeling the warmth of his slightly larger palm envelope her own. Turning back towards the door after their quick exchange, she opened the door wider, beckoning them inside. The moment Hotch saw Emily step through the entrance, he heard pounding footsteps and a high pitched wailing before he saw where it was coming from. Then, just as he caught sight of a young girl bounding down the stairs, she was just as soon crashing into Emily's legs.

"Aunty Emiwyyy!"

"Hey there kiddo! Long time no see!" Emily responded, smiling down at the young brunette seemingly glued to her legs. Sensing that Diane had walked up next to him lovingly looking down at the young girl, he turned to face her with an arched eyebrow.

"My daughter. Sofia," she stated, gesturing towards the pair. As Emily looked up, she saw another person coming towards her. She was suddenly enveloped in another hug as Diane's husband wrapped her in a big bear hug, doing his best to step around the young girl clinging to Emily's feet.

"Good to see you Em. We sure have missed you 'round here." He said, stepping back slightly to look at her.

"I missed you too. And you too little bugger!" she said, ruffling the young girls hair.

"Charlie Sholtz" the man said, extending his hand towards Hotch.

"Aaron Hotchner," Hotch replied, shaking the man's hand firmly. He had never once heard Emily mention any of their names, he was sure of it. It interested him to see her acting so informal, as the most un-work like he had ever seen her besides the previous night was when he had stopped by her apartment to bring her back for one last case after she had quit to protect him. Now, she looked like a completely different person. Motherly. And clearly they were fairly close with the way they had acted just now when she arrived. He suddenly felt a flash of jealously towards the younger man for so easily interacting with her in such a familiar way, but quickly shook it off, storing those thoughts away for later contemplation. Once again hearing the voice of Emily brought him out of his thoughts.

"What do you think you're doing way over there? Get over here," Emily commanded with a teasing tone towards the other woman who was only standing a few feet away.

Flinging herself into Emily's form, she was engulfed in a massive hug. Wrapping her arms around Diane's back, Emily squeezing tightly, happy to once again see her long time best friend.

"God Em, I missed you so much."

"Me too D, me too."

After another moment, the women stepped apart, looking down at the yawning girl at their side.

"Are you tired sweetie?" Diane asked, rewarded with a sleepy nod from Sofia. With a soft chuckle Diane replied, "Okay lets go upstairs so you can take a nap, alright?"

"No!" the girl cried, shaking her head wildly. "I want aunty Emmy to take me!"

Smiling down at the young girl whose arms were outstretched upwards, Emily bent down and hoisted her up onto her hip. "Alrighty then. Shall we?" Emily asked playfully, laughing at the sleepy nod and sigh of contempt from Sofia as she laid her head on Emily's shoulder.

Watching intently as Emily carried the girl up the stairs, his mind briefly flashed to an image of her doing the same with jack. _Jack would really love Emily. She's so good with kids. She'd be such a great mother._

Before he could recognize fully what he had just thought to himself, he was ushered towards the dining room by Diane and seated at the large wooden table.

While Emily was carrying her daughter up to bed, Diane was watching Aaron. Though she trusted him to an extent, she needed to know that he would protect her while they were together. There was clearly something that Emily saw in him, and yet Diane couldn't quite figure out what as she took in his icy features.

But Emily seemed to trust him completely, and Diane started to see why as she watched his facial features briefly soften as Emily interacted with Sofia before his features walled up again as if he realized that he had momentarily let something slip.

"Do you have kids?" She asked, clearly dragging him away from his own thoughts.

"Yes. A son," Hotch replied with a small smile.

"How old?"

"Three."

"Sofia's four. She just adores Emily," Diane stated, hinting towards where she new his gaze had been just a moment ago. "Hold on, I want to show you something," Diane said with a mischievous smile as she scooted her chair backwards and walked into the living room. He watched as she bent down and reached for something on the bottom cabinet shelf before she sauntered back towards him.

"I swear to god Emily is going to kill me for this. But we have a few minutes until she comes back down, and something tells me that you've seen very few appearances of the Emily that I know," She said as she sat back at the table, this time directly next to him, and placed a small photo album on the table.

Arching an eyebrow at her very clear differentiation insinuated as if there were two different Emily's, his interest was peaked, eager to see what was inside the album.

"How long have you two known each other?" He asked, curious as to how far back the pictures might go.

"Since college. We were in the same graduating class at Yale," she replied as she flipped open the small album. Hotch smiled as the first picture showed a much younger Emily sitting in a tree with a wide smile. As the pictures continued, Hotch was surprised at the variety of images, some were pictures of things that he would not have guessed that Emily had done. Pictures of them at the beach, pictures of them at parties, of them traveling, smoking, hiking, living. He just couldn't get over how alive she looked in each one of the photographs. As she once again turned the page, his breath caught in his throat as the next picture appeared. It was a more recent picture of Emily and Diane at a party, dressed up for some sort of gala.

"This one was taken a few years ago at one of Emily's mother's Embassy parties. She begged me and begged me to go with her for days until I agreed. We ended up having so much fun that night," Diane said with a soft smile, clearly remembering that moment. Hotch looked over the picture again, absorbing every detail that he could see. Emily looked beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. They both did. They were posed slightly turned towards each other, arms wrapped behind the other's waist. She was wearing a floor length vibrantly deep red dress that showed off her curves perfectly. And oh did she have curves. How had he not noticed before? The slit in her dress went just up to mid thigh, showing off one long porcelain leg along with a pair of silver stilettos. The silk dress only revealed a small slit of her chest before draping around her neck and shoulders. The sides of the dress wrapped around her torso separating in the back creating a diamond shape of bare skin, dipping low, all the way to where it stopped at a V in the small of her back. Her hair was curled and pulled up into some sort of updo at the base of her neck, with soft curls framing her face, revealing her only jewelry, a pair of silver pendant earrings. There was so much to look at in the picture that he didn't know where to keep his eyes. Her face. Her exposed leg. Her bare back. Her smile. Her lips. Her chest. Her stilettos. Her leg. His eyes kept going back and forth swimming in the expanse of bare skin and soft curves until Diane once again turned the page, seemingly oblivious to his thoughts.

"I think it's a good idea you know," Diane said softly after a moment of silence of looking through pictures.

"Excuse me?" Hotch replied, unsure as to what she was referring to.

"You and Emily."

"We're not—"

"I know," she said, cutting him off mid sentence. "But believe me when I say that Emily deserves to have someone look at her the way that I just saw you looking at her a few moments ago." Knowing that he was about to protest again, she continued smoothly, "and I'm sure that having a little bit of Emily around in your life might do you some good too," she stated, obviously referring to his serious nature.

Unsure of what to say, Hotch was stunned into silence by the woman's interjection. Before today, he hadn't openly thought of Emily in that way. Maybe a thought here or there recently, but to have the words said by someone else so openly was somehow different. To have someone else confirm what he had repeatedly heard and just as easily brushed off from Rossi.

"But I also know that Emily is not in any way one to have an inter-office relationship. Out of all the years I have known her, while she may have broken many rules, that isn't, and most likely will not be one of them. So you need to figure out what you want, and if it's her, you need to make sure she knows. Let her know before it's too late, because as I'm sure you might have figured out, a woman like that doesn't stay available for long," she said with a pointed glance towards the stairwell.

"Hey Emily! You better get down here, Diane brought out the photo albums!" Hotch suddenly heard Charlie yell from his spot in the kitchen. Just as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Hotch and Diane looked up at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps upstairs before Emily appeared running down the stairs, nearly tripping over the last step, hurtling herself towards the table before slamming the photo album shut and snatching it up. Diane just laughed as Emily walked away swiftly and shoved the album back onto its shelf in the corner.

As Hotch amusedly watched her, he was silently contemplating Diane's words. She could practically see his thought process in his face.

While Hotch honest to god had no idea what Diane was talking about with all the rule breaking, he now had a slightly better idea of who the woman was that he had worked with for the past few years. Not only was there more to her than the hard ass agent that she portrayed, but an entirely other side, well surpassing sexy and reckless. The photos proved that, while at the same time most likely not even nearing close to capturing the reality. And he now knew that although he may have been slightly able to see a side of Emily in the past day that he previously would not have been privy to, there was still a whole heck of a lot more to find. And it shocked him a little to realize that that was exactly what he intended to do.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**This one is a lot longer than I expected it to be! I am quite pleased with how it turned out although it took me a bit longer than I would have liked. Leave a review and me what you think! **

A few hours later, Hotch and Emily were following Diane up the steps to where they would be staying for the next several days.

"I trust you know how everything works?" Diane asked, looking at Emily. When receiving a nod, she continued. "I know it's not much and it might be a tight fit for the next few days, but it should have everything that you might need."

"We're fine Diane, it will be great," Emily responded with a smile.

"Well if you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Of course. I'll see you soon okay?"

"Make sure you contact me when this is all over. I'll keep you updated if there is anything in the news or something that you need to know."

"No! I can't get you anymore involved in this. I'm already putting you at risk just by contacting you. You've done plenty, D."

Rolling her eyes at her friend's insinuation that Diane would rather be anywhere else than helping her best friend at that moment, she replied. "Yeah right Hon, like I could let this go now. Don't do anything stupid Em. Stay safe."

"Thank you," Emily responded thickly in her ear as they embraced once more. Pulling apart, Diane turned to Hotch. "Keep her safe, you hear? Don't let her do anything reckless," Diane said with a glint in her eye, pointedly quirking her lip up at Emily.

"Of course," Hotch said with a tight smile although they both knew that he would have been helpless to stop her from doing anything she set her mind to. "And thank you. For everything, we really appreciate the help."

"You're very welcome. Anything to get behind the wheel of that beauty," she responded lightheartedly with a gesture towards Emily's black Porsche as she turned and trotted down the flight of stairs without looking back.

Watching the retreating form of her friend speed off in her Porsche while leaving the small forest green Subaru behind, Emily sighed as she turned back towards the door. _I'm going to have to find some way to repay her. Like that will ever be possible, _she huffed to herself.

Recognizing the small look of guilt creeping onto Emily's face, Hotch worried that she was regretting involving Diane in their situation. In most circumstances, he would have just let this be, and then later have felt guilty knowing that she was hurting and he could have fixed it if he had been a better person. One who went out of their comfort zone to do things like that for other people. He was very aware that he should work harder at being more approachable, but he always figured that the people that mattered already knew that just because he wasn't quite as outwardly social as some people, it didn't mean that they couldn't open up to him. And yet he knew that although his team understood that they could come to him with anything, he hadn't exactly directly extended an olive branch indicating his willingness to listen. It was something that he missed about his life as a married man: listening, helping. After Haley left, the only person that ever came to him for help was his son. And the things that he needed help with were obstacles like taking a bath, or finding a favorite lost toy. Although doing anything with or for his son were always worth his time, he missed the prospect of simple adult contact. And with this thought in mind, he made the decision to try harder to weaken this barrier between him and other people. Between him and Emily. No matter how small or seemingly insignificant the action was, at least it was a step in the right direction. A step that he wanted to take with her. And he knew that in order to get her to think of him as anything other than "Hotch," let alone as a friend, he would have to start doing these things more regularly.

"Emily, I know you feel guilty for dragging Diane into this, but it doesn't take a profiler to see that she's more than happy to help. You have no reason to feel bad about what she's doing for you. In just the few hours that I've known her, I can tell that she'd do almost anything for you, and you for her as well."

"That's what bothers me. I don't want her to put herself or her family in any danger because of me. She's already at risk just by knowing me. She doesn't need to put herself any further out there! I shouldn't have let her switch us cars," she said angrily. "I shouldn't have even contacted her!"

"Then where would we be without her help? Do you think that she'd actually prefer you to have left her out of this situation while you were sitting in some unprotected motel rather than in a safe house just to keep her out of it? And her taking the car was just a precaution, you know it's highly unlikely that someone will find her through that, no one even knows you own a car like that. And it's not like she'll be driving it around catching everyone's attention, she's just taking it to a desolate parking garage to keep it out of sight. Everything else she's done and probably will do, she's been more than careful to do discretely."

Shutting her eyes, Emily took a moment to let Hotch's words sink in, knowing that he was just reminding her of everything she had repeated to herself when she let Diane get involved in the first place. Opening her eyes, she gave a thankful half-smile towards her boss. The man that just in the past thirty seconds had just had a more open conversation with her than he had throughout their entire career together. She didn't know what had changed about him just then, but she knew that whatever it was, it was for the best. She liked this new side to him that he was suddenly showing her, no matter how small the doses they came in. Although it was a little bit strange opening up to him after their rocky start and barely existent relationship, she found herself not feeling the least bit inhibited about what she had said. Or rather, what he had picked up on. In fact, thinking about it, it was a little bit weird that it didn't feel strange opening up to him. Emily was never one to share her feelings with anybody, ever. And she sure as hell didn't let people read her so easily! Being so unreadable was a point of pride with her that he had just broken through without the slightest struggle. Usually, this would have made her felt uneasy. Exposed. But it didn't. Not only did it feel good to let someone in even in the slightest, but it felt natural with him. And she found herself wishing that he would someday open up to her as well. It might take then a while to get to that point, on both sides, but if it could get him to open up to somebody, anybody, than she was okay with that.

Shaking off these thoughts, she turned back towards the door, suddenly realizing that they were still standing exposed on the front step. Punching in the nine-digit code, she slid the key into the deadbolt before stepping through the door. Hotch right on her heels, he watched as she carefully shut the door behind them and reset all the locks, sliding both the deadbolt along with numerous other locks shut. Hotch's frown depend as she stepped back into the room and made her way over to the windows, carefully examining each one before pressing a button near the windowsill of each window, arming the alarm system on each opening. He was glad that the house had such a high-tech security system, but he was slightly alarmed not only that Emily seemed to know how to use it so well, but seemed completely comfortable and normally at ease in doing so.

_Has she been in danger like this before? _

Watching as she finished with the last window and seemed to be heading towards the kitchen, he lightly grabbed her wrist with the intentions of sitting her down and demanding to know why it was that she felt so at ease with this whole situation as she brushed past him. With being in danger in general. But as she spun around to face him, he saw the sheer befuddlement clouding her features.

Spinning around at the touch of her boss' hand catching her wrist, she frowned in confusion, wondering what had caused him to do such a thing. Why was he being so tactile? Not once in their entire working relationship had he so much as laid a hand on her shoulder, and here he was now practically holding her hand! What had just happened causing him to look so concerned? But just as quickly as she had seen it, it was gone. He abruptly dropped her wrist and shook his head in dismissal, outstretching his arm, gesturing for her to continue on her way towards the kitchen. After taking a moment to study his unreadable features once more, scanning for any hints as to what he was thinking, she decided that she wasn't going to get anywhere, and she slowly started back towards the kitchen.

Staring after her, he was shocked at the mere confusion that had clouded her features at his touch. Was he really that aloof? He knew that he was at times rather distant, but to have her be so shocked at the fact that he had simply touched her wrist was a wake up call for him. He hadn't realized until then just how coldly he had treated her in the beginning. A simple gesture like that was one that he had repeatedly seen Morgan, Rossi, even Reid do! And not once had they ever gotten such an expression from her. Up until that moment, he had planned on asking her, no, demanding to know exactly what had happened to her, but he realized with that look that they were nowhere near ready for that conversation. And so he had dropped her hand with a simple shake of his head, knowing that she would leave it alone. But when she did, he found himself mourning the momentary contact between them. It befuddled him to think that out of the years that he had known her, that that was the first time they had ever touched. _It couldn't be, could it? Of course I've touched her before! I'm not that distant, am I?_

But trying to recall one instant where he had ever so much as tapped her shoulder before, he couldn't. Besides the brush of an arm in a crowded elevator or occasional accidental contact, he could recall a single instant where he had purposefully touched her. Shaking off the thoughts of self-loathing running through his head at that moment, he followed Emily into the kitchen to find her fumbling with the locks on the back door that headed off of the kitchen.

"Where does that lead?" He asked cautiously, not wanted to startle her with his sudden presence.

Looking up and stepping away from the door, clearly satisfied she replied, "fire exit. There's a ladder that leads into the alley behind this building."

Nodding his head in understanding, he swiveled his head around taking in the room around him.

Seeing the curiosity in her supervisor's gaze, Emily deduced that it was time that he saw the rest of their temporary home.

"Come on, I'll give you the grand tour before we turn in," she smiled up at him when his gaze finally landed back on her face.

"This is the kitchen and dining room, and the wash and dryer is back behind that sliding door over there," She said, pointing towards the corner of the room before heading back the way they came, crossing the living room. "That over there is the bedroom and this here is the bathroom," she said, opening a door to reveal a tile-covered room with a surprisingly ample sized washroom. Crossing the hall, she opened up the third doorway, revealing an alarming number of computers and other high-tech looking gadgets neatly organized around the room.

"Wow this looks like someplace Garcia would have a field day in," he said with a chuckle. "What is all this?"

"Mostly for surveillance. Tracking devices, computers, headsets, alarms, you name it. Oh! And check this out," Emily said excitedly, rushing over to the corner of the room. Bending down, she removed the small rug from the cherry flooring to reveal a hatch door. Flipping open the door, she climbed a few steps down so that just her chest emerged. "You coming?" She asked questioningly as he was still standing silently staring at her.

"I—right. Yes." He stuttered, following her down the staircase. As his feet hit the concrete flooring, he heard her shuffle around a bit before a dim overhead light came on. What the light revealed had him gaping silently before his mouth spread into a small Hotch-like grin. "Guns."

"No, not just guns," she replied, waving her hand towards one wall that was covered in an assortment of machetes and a wide variety of throwing knives, and then the adjoining wall stocked with shelves of different explosives, ranging from gas explosive to loaded RPGs.

Staring at the room the contained all the ammo and weaponry that they could ever need in their lifetime, 'wow' was all he could say in response.

"Good to know that we have more then just our sigs incase something goes wrong. Where did all this come from?"

"The CIA supplied most of it initially, but now the stock alters depending on what people bring and take when they stay here, in addition to what Diane and Charlie keeps here. Pretty impressive huh?"

"I'll say," Hotch replied with a low whistle.

"Come on, let's head back up. I'll cook dinner while you take a shower."

"Cook? Since when can you cook?" Hotch said with surprise evident in his voice as he followed after her. Nearly grabbing her ankle instead of the ladder wrung, it took Hotch a second to figure out why she stopped in the middle of climbing. With a quick glance towards her face he saw her staring down at him over her shoulder with one eyebrow arched pointedly. Before he could say anything to backtrack over his prior statement, she was once again scurrying up the ladder.

Reaching the top, he pulled himself out of the flooring as Emily closed the hatch. Moving her hands to her hips as she stood up and stared at him with a knowing smirk, she felt it necessary to make him squirm a little bit longer under her discerning gaze.

"Right. I'll uh—just go get in the shower then," Hotch said while awkwardly jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the bathroom as he started to turn away. Seeing his genuine uneasiness, she rolled her eyes before taking a step after him, reaching out to grab his forearm. "Hotch wait—"

Feeling her unexpected touch before hearing her words, he spun back around in an abrupt fashion, sending her careening towards him.

Emily was caught off guard as his movement set them much closer together than she had initially anticipated. Expecting him to immediately step away, she was confused when he didn't, and instead continued to stare down at her with an intensely expectant gaze. Momentarily caught off guard by his close proximity, she stuttered out a few words attempting to convey the message that her earlier actions were simply to tease him, hoping that her jumbled words were forming actual coherent sentences.

As he finally stepped back towards the door, she closed her eyes and mentally slapped herself for letting him catch her so off-guard. Following him out the door after a moment's pause, she missed the smile playing at his lips as he headed for the bathroom, grabbing his go-bag on the way.

Stepping out the bathroom door fifteen minutes later, the first thing Hotch noticed was the smell of something delicious cooking in the kitchen. God, did he miss this sensation of having someone else there to cook for you, coming home to a house filled with the sweet aroma of something baking in the oven. With Haley it was always the smell of breakfast. No matter what time of day it was, he could always come home to the sure smell of coffee and toast. For some reason, Hotch had the notion that coming home to Emily would smell different, that it would smell of strong spices and vague traces of vanilla or cinnamon. Kind of like it smelled right now. Following the scent to the kitchen. Hotch stopped in the entryway, finding himself looking at a sight that he never thought he would see.

Back facing towards him, Emily moved frantically around the kitchen trying to find the right ingredients for what she was making in the pre-stocked kitchen. Luckily, Diane had stocked the fridge full of an assortment of fruits and vegetables, along with anything and everything else they could possibly have needed, presumably after she had received the phone call from Emily that morning. _Bless that woman, _she thought gratefully, shaking her head to herself.

Emily knew that most people thought that she couldn't cook, but that wasn't the case at all. She just simply preferred to pick up an already cooked meal and take it home than spending so much time slaving away over the stove. In truth, she actually loved to cook, and just never really seemed to find the time. That's why she wanted to prove tonight to Hotch that this was something that not only she could do, but that it was something that she was good at. Knowing that she only had a few minutes until Hotch emerged from the bathroom, she focused on adding the last touches to her favorite soup. Carrying the hot bowls over to the small wooden table sitting in the corner of the kitchen, she set them down on the table sharply, feeling the heat of the liquid burn her fingertips through the ceramic bowls. Hearing chuckling coming from the entry to the kitchen, she spun around in embarrassment, only to be met with the sight of her barefooted, sweats clad supervisor leaning against the door frame. The sight of him standing there stirred something inside of her, momentarily bringing a taint blush to her cheeks before she quickly covered it up. There was just something about the sight of him standing there that sent a weird feeling to the pit of her stomach. When was the last time she had felt so comfortable with any man standing so close by, let alone one that she was so willing to cook for and look after, one that she was loyal to and trusted entirely? This moment with him standing there seemed so surreally domestic compared to their usual formalness in a sense that she couldn't even describe that it sent shivers down her spine. Swallowing hard as he walked towards her, she held eye contact with him, unable to look away from his piercing brown eyes. Following his form as it got closer and then walked past her with a slight brush to her shoulder, her rigid posture deflated as he moved over to the table and pulled out a chair for her, gesturing for her to sit. Then it was her turn to watch as he walked away briefly, returning with two glasses and a bottle of Bordeaux red wine, filling both glasses slightly more than half way before taking the seat across from her.

"Thanks," Emily said with a small smile. "I hope this is fine, I just wanted to make something quick since it's kind of late."

"This is perfect Emily," Hotch replied as he took a bite.

Emily smirked inwardly as she watched his eyes widen at the taste of her soup.

_HA!_ She thought to herself.

Hotch couldn't believe how good the soup tasted. _She made this in fifteen minutes?! _

"Are you sure that you didn't just run to a restaurant and pick this up while I was in the shower?" Hotch asked teasingly, very well knowing that she didn't. With a shy chuckle, Emily just passed off the compliment with a wave of her hand. "I'm pretty sure Diane picked up a few things for us before we got here, so I had everything I needed. It's just a simple recipe."

_Why does she always do that? Can't she see how amazing she is? Why does she always have to disregard any and all praise? _He made sure to wait until she looked him back in the eyes before he said with sincerity, "it's wonderful," hoping that he conveyed his message. Judging by the slight color rising in her cheeks, he deemed himself successful. _Good. She needs to be given more credit for everything that she does. _

"What's it called?" He asked suddenly, wanting to know what it was that was so delicious.

"Oh it's an Indian spiced bean and tomato soup! I learned all these amazing recipes when I traveled to India and I hardly ever get the chance to cook any of them. When I saw all the ingredients here I decided to make it!"

"India?" Hotch asked with surprise. Although why he was surprised he didn't know. "When were you in India?"

"Oh, years ago. Probably when I was in my late twenties. I was there for several months, and still to this day it is one of my favorite places I have ever traveled. I'd love to back some day," she added with a sigh.

Hotch smiled seeing the excited twinkle behind her eyes as she talked about her time in India. Wanting to hear her more about her travels, well, just more about her in general if he was being honest with himself, he eagerly continued to ask her questions regarding all the different places she had traveled over the years. Chatting softly, they continued to sit at the table sipping on wine long after their soup was finished. As the hours passed and they were well into their second bottle of wine, Emily found herself having one of the best times that she'd had in a long time. It may have had something to do with the fact that she was noticeably quite a bit past tipsy, but she could at least think clearly enough to know that it had to do more with who she was drinking with than how much she was drinking. To an extent, it weirded her out slightly that she was being so open with her supervisor, and he in turn was reciprocating the conversation. Everyone more wrong about him than they realized, saying that he was so uptight and no fun. Are people supposed to have this much fun with their bosses? Isn't there some sort of unwritten rule against this sort of thing? But as the conversation went on, Emily realized that she really couldn't have given any less of a fuck. She was just having too much damn fun. Who knew that Supervisory special agent in charge Hotchner would be such a good time? She should have broken out the bottle of wine ages ago.

Glancing across the room at the glowing green light of the stove clock, she almost spilled the last few sips of her wine as she read the numbers.

"Hotch, it's almost three in the morning!"

Seeing the mixed look of amusement and horror on her face, Hotch immediately broke out into laughter. If asked later, he most definitely would have blamed it on the alcohol instead of the ridiculous look on her face. Immediately following her supervisor by bursting into a fit of giggles, Emily tried hopelessly to stifle her laughter, knowing that they should probably get to bed before they decided to brake open a third bottle.

"I guess we should probably head to bed then," Hotch suggested as their laughter died down, as if reading her mind.

"Yep," Emily responded, and then let out an audible sigh, slumping back down into her chair as she took in the messy state that the Kitchen was in.

"Don't worry about it, I'll clean it up in the morning sweetheart," Hotch said laughingly upon seeing the deflated look in Emily's features. Freezing immediately, he realized what he had just said. Standing up and holding his hand out for her to do the same, he breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't seem to notice the term of endearment slip off his tongue. He may have admitted his feelings for her to himself, but he was far from admitting them to her. He knew that with Emily, he would have to take it slow so as not to scare her off. Shifting their relationship so dramatically was an enormous task, and he didn't want her to freak out before she came to terms with such a change. He needed to make sure that she wouldn't hole up into herself if he confronted her too quickly. The timing had to be just right.

"Thanks," she responded with a cheeky smile and a pat to his cheek as she stood in front of him, oblivious to his current thoughts.

In that moment, all Hotch wanted to do was kiss her. Kiss her until her knees wobbled and she was moaning into his mouth. He wanted to feel her soft lips on his, whispering his name, kissing him back with equal readiness.

But he didn't. He simply smiled back, refusing to let his eyes rest on her tangible lips as he grabbed her hand to pull her closer to him as he led her away from the kitchen. Although he knew that he wasn't quite as drunk as Emily was, he still had a rather difficult time making his way to the bedroom while simultaneously keeping a tight grip around Emily's waist to ensure that she didn't stumble. As he pushed open the door and stepped through the frame he felt his chest leap into his throat.

One bed.

_Oh god, I can't sleep so close next to her. Maybe I can just sleep on the floor._ Glancing desperately down at the hardwood floors, he quickly disregarded that idea. Looking back towards Emily to see if she had noticed his dilemma, or had even given a second thought to the situation of there being one bed. Turning around, he saw her standing a few feet away from him with her back facing him, struggling to pull her shirt over her head.

After the initial shock of seeing her start to undress, he couldn't help the laugh that escaped his throat.

"Need some help?" He said chuckling quietly as he heard her replied grunt. _That wine must have been a little stronger than I initially thought, _he said to himself as he stumbled clumsily over to her. Grabbing her hips, he spun her around so that she was facing him before telling her to put her arms up and hold still. Letting out a deep breath, he mustered up all the self-control that he had in that moment as he grabbed the hem of her shirt and slowly pulled it up and over her head. As gentlemanly as he was trying to be as he knew that Emily would be embarrassed in the morning, he still couldn't stop his eyes from taking a trip downward when the disregarded shirt revealed a black lacy bra that covered her ample breasts. Quickly adverting his eyes, he steered her towards the bed and sat her down on the edge, making his way back towards the doorway to find her go bag. Pulling out a T-shirt and shorts, he handed them to her and told her to change while he went to the bathroom. Nodding her head sleepily, she watched him enter the bathroom door before disregarding the rest of her clothing and pulling on her PJ's. When she heard him reemerge seconds later, she was confused when he didn't immediately climb into the bed. Cracking open one eye, she saw him staring down at her intensely with a weird look on his face. Reckoning herself too drunk to figure out what it was, she simply reached over and held up the covers for him to climb in.

As Aaron looked down at the blankets draping smoothly over her soft shape, his body tingled with a mixture of excitement and dread. But before he could change his mind about sleeping on the floor, she reached over and held up the blankets for him.

_She's so sweet, _was his first thought as he saw the sleepy smile creep across her face. Climbing into the bed, he knew that he had no other choice. He was just going to have to deal with it.

Feeling the bed dip as he climbed under the covers on the opposite side of the bed, she once again closed her eyes. Sensing his presence just inches away from her, she felt safer and more at home than she had in a long time, and easily drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

**...**

**Okay so I'm wondering if for the actual case focused part if I should have Emily and Hotch simply stay in hiding while the team works on solving the case while still being in contact with Emily for help and such or if I should have Emily and Hotch chasing down the bad people while the team tries to track them down and bring them back to the BAU? I'm not entirely sure that it would make sense to have the team looking for Emily and Hotch instead of the bad people and it might be kinda hard to write but I would like to know what you guys want! Leave me a review of message me if you have any ideas!**


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

JJ led the way into the conference room towards the team with Haley and Elizabeth Prentiss hot on her heels. Before anyone could so much as stand to greet the two women, the Ambassador quickly disregarded the need for introductions.

"What are you doing to find my daughter?" She asked sternly, no room for arguments. Taken aback slightly at her abrupt confrontation, Rossi quickly lost all sense of pleasantries, taking on the roll of the 'formal team leader,' knowing that that was obviously what the ambassador had in mind as she approached him.

The whole team had known from the way that Emily talked of her mother that she was not a warm and fuzzy type of person, but taking in her cold demeanor and stern eyes, they hadn't realized up until now quite what that had entailed.

"Ambassador, we are doing everything we can to find both your daughter and our team leader," he said, nodding warmly in Haley's direction, "but I would like to remind you that with all due respect, you are here to help to provide us with any information possible, not the other way around."

"I understand that Agent Rossi, but I would like to think that as her mother, I would be informed of what is happening concerning the undergoing investigation," she said coldly.

Giving a curt nod towards the ambassador, he glanced towards Morgan, willing him to take over.

"It seems that you're daughter is not 'missing,' but is in considerable danger. From what we found on the man who we believe to be responsible, she seems to have quite the bulls-eye on her back," Morgan stated in a professional manner.

"What do you mean she isn't missing? Of course she is missing!"

"Both your daughter and Agent Hotchner have disappeared on their own accord. I'm assuming you've both seen the news?"

"Yes," the two women replied in unison.

"Whatever went down at Emily's apartment, she thought that their best option was to run. She believes that the man behind the explosion in her apartment is dangerous, ridiculously so, and she made the call to go underground for the time being."

"What do you mean, 'she believes'? Have you spoken to her?"

"Yes. Your daughter contacted Technical analysis Penelope Garcia this morning, providing us with a lead, and ensured us that both her and Agent Hotchner were safe for the time being."

Before the ambassador could ask what their lead was, Haley cut in to the conversation. "What does Aaron have to do with this? Why am I here?"

Turning towards his boss' ex-wife, Morgan continued. "At the time of the explosion, Hotch was at Emily's apartment. He was with her when the men broke into her house, and has now become a target as well. They are together, and we all have full confidence that whatever they decide to do, they will be safe. Not only is Hotch a damn good agent, but Emily is with him as well, and that means that they will practically be untouchable."

Smiling softly at his attempted words of comfort, she didn't miss what he had said about her ex being at Emily's apartment so late. She had met Agent Prentiss once a few years ago during the super bowl and remembered how gorgeous and outgoing the agent was. Shaking away those thoughts that were now none of her business she asked, "what is he doing to get them both back here safe?"

Snorting quietly to herself, JJ popped up. "Actually, it seems that Emily is the one calling all the shots on this one."

Confusion skittered across the faces of everyone in the room. "How do you mean JJ?" Asked Reid who up until then had been quiet.

Glancing up, JJ looked at the team as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, surprised that no one else had picked up on it as quickly as she had. "Well first of all, the chat room was obviously Emily's idea. Then there's also the fact that they ran. Hotch wouldn't have run whether or not it was the best decision for the situation. As smart and as analytical as he is, his good judgment would have been replaced by confusion and anger and he most likely would not have made the safe call on this one. Although he would have immediately done anything he could have to ensured Emily's safety, he would have been enraged at the situation, most likely resulting in a more direct and aggressive approach. Also, Hotch probably has no clue what is going on. Because Emily is the only one who knows the entire situation, he isn't familiar with the case whatsoever, and would have little idea as to what steps should be taken, therefor letting Emily take charge. Possibly involuntarily," she added with a smirk.

"Good thinking JJ," said Rossi. "But you forgot one thing. There's also the fact that this is _Emily _here. There's no way she would have let him take charge on this one anyway."

Snickering softly at Rossi's comment, JJ glanced at Reid who looked ridiculously confused. Rolling her eyes at the child-like man next to her, she turned back to Rossi.

"We are going to have to create three profiles then," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Three? What for?" asked Morgan.

"One for Emily, One for Hotch, and one for them together," continued Rossi.

"But why?" Morgan asked.

"Because they act differently when they are together," said Reid, catching up on Rossi and JJ's train of thought. "We can predict what each person would do separately, but all bets are off when they are together. There's no telling what they could decide to do next."

"Hotch and Emily also react differently to each other than they do with the rest of us," added Morgan.

"What do you mean?" Asked the ambassador, keenly listening to what they were saying about her daughter and their supervisor.

"Ever since Emily joined the team, the two of them have always acted a little strange around each other in comparison to the rest of us. At first, it was mistrust regarding the way Emily was placed on the team, but since then their relationship has changed considerably. Still, they are extremely reserved with each other, and yet they work together seamlessly, finishing each other's thoughts before the rest of us have even caught up to what they are discussing. They aren't as comfortable around each other as they are with others, and I don't think that they trust each other with the same level of comfort that there is between Emily and the rest of us, or even Hotch and us. At least on a personal level that is."

"But why? Asked Reid, still confused as to how he could have missed such important vibes from the two members of his team.

"I think that on a basic level, Emily makes Hotch nervous. And he isn't completely aware of this, and so he reacts with slight amounts of hostility and suspicion," said Rossi thoughtfully, reflecting on all the times he had caught Hotch snapping at her in the beginning.

Turning towards the media liaison to his left he continued, "JJ, what about Emily? You and Garcia have the best insight to her."

After a moments thought with pursed lips, JJ started speaking. "I think… I think that Emily is subconsciously aware of this as well, and she reacts with distrust, uncertain as to why _he_ doesn't trust _her_," JJ slowly stated. "Their relationship has always been on rocky ground, and yet like you said, they work together impeccably, almost as if they are on an entirely separate wavelength from the rest of us. And there is a level of protectiveness that Hotch displays over Emily that I'm not even sure that he is aware of. Emily has told me on occasion that she thinks he's coddling her, and that she views his actions to be telling her that she can't handle herself. And with Emily, that's one hell of a sore spot. We all know how capable she is. And yet, even though he angers her immensely at times, she still shows an uncanny amount of care for him. And I think…. I think that she intimidates him. She's the only one who can even think of telling Hotch to shove it up his ass and get away with it," she said with a chuckle. "And even though it bothers Hotch that she has this kind of influence over him, he cant do anything to stop it."

"And he may have been suspicious of her, but he trusts her judgment immensely. He has no doubt whatsoever when it comes to her capabilities," added Derek.

"Okay so I think we all have a pretty good idea of what they would do alone under these circumstances, but what we need to figure out is how this would alter their judgment being together," said Rossi.

"Well let's see. Emily is compassionate, intelligent, quick on her feet…" Morgan started before the rest of the team started chiming in.

"Thoughtful."

"Caring."

"Modest."

"Strong."

"Fast thinker."

"Independent."

"Capable."

"Private. Very private."

"Strategic."

"Determined."

"Are you guys all crazy? Have you MET Emily?" Asked an astonished Garcia who had just appeared in the doorway, intent on sharing the information she had found on dames with the team until hearing the last of their list. Confusion skittered across the face of each member of the team, save JJ who was sporting a knowing grin.

"What do you mean baby girl?" Asked Morgan.

"Well hot stuff, you seem to be missing a few things from that list."

"Like what?" He asked confusedly.

"Uh lets see, how about, crazy, outgoing, wild, badass, sexy, reckless, rebellious, fun, ridiculously HILARIOUS, did I mention sexy?" Listed Penelope, ticking off each trait on her fingers.

Snickering, JJ backed up Garcia. "Yeah, sorry boys but when was the last time you hung out with Emily besides work or team drinks? I think Garcia pretty much nailed it. Maybe slightly exuberantly, but nevertheless."

"Okay, we'll uh, add that to the list." Huffed Rossi awkwardly, glancing at a wide-eyed and blushing Spencer.

"And Hotch?" asked Morgan, moving the conversation towards their team leader.

"Intensely private. Maybe more so than Emily even."

"Stern. Scarily stern."

"Caring. Compassionate. Even though he isn't very good about showing these qualities to many people, they're there. We've all seen them."

"Protective."

"Alpha."

"Smart."

"Closed off."

"Aggressive."

"Protective."

"You already said that Morgan," stated Reid.

"I know, but _seriously_ protective. Especially when it comes to Emily. We have to think about that because we know that no matter what happens, if something goes wrong, he will do everything he possibly can to keep her safe, even by putting himself in danger," he stated.

After contemplating their teammates most prominent qualities, Morgan heaved a big sigh. "They're practically polar opposites guys."

"No they aren't," popped up JJ quietly. They may be outwardly different when it comes to how they act around us and with each other, but think about it; they are almost eerily similar. They are both very intellectual, unbelievably passionate, reserved, protective. I mean look at the way that Emily takes care of all of us! And yet they both have a hidden side, one that they don't let each other see, more so than the rest of us. For Emily it's the funny, slightly wild side, and for Hotch it's the caring fatherly side. I'm not too sure that that either one of them even knows that that side of the other exists!"

"JJ's right. They're going to have one hell of a time together," said Morgan.

"How so?" asked Reid, still clueless.

"Man, they're going to be cramped up in motels together for who knows how long, and they hardly even know each other. Like _really_ know how the other acts outside of work. This is going to be one hell of an intimately crazy trip for them," said Morgan, doing his best to fill in Spencer. "I mean, Hotch unconsciously holds Emily at a greater difference than he does with the rest of us. It's going to be a totally different experience for them having to stay in such close quarters for so long. Who knows what could happen," he finished with a wink in Garcia's direction.

"I hope Hotch doesn't give Emily too much trouble, he can be a real stickler when he wants something done a certain way," sighed JJ.

"I think you got it backwards JJ, I just hope Hotch doesn't end up killing _her._ We all know that she will get her way in the end," Morgan snickered.

"Okay so where does that leave us?" Asked Rossi, getting everyone back on track.

"We know that if doing this separately, Hotch would most likely take charge and aggressively track down these people on his own, attempting to keep anyone and everyone out of harms way, even if it means that he is on his own," started Morgan.

"Emily on the other hand, would take a more patient approach. She would be a little bit more tactful about it, asking for help when needed and would probably have a more thought out plan rather than charging right into the line of fire," contributed Reid.

"And together?" Asked JJ.

"Well we already know that Hotch is letting Emily take the lead on this. So we know at least that for the most part, they will stay hidden and safe until they come up with a solid plan."

"Safe? You think that they are safe?!" said Elizabeth in a harsh tone, not understanding how her daughter could possibly feel safe holed up someplace with a group of madmen after her.

"With all due respect Ambassador, although you may have insight to Emily's past that may come in handy for us, you do not know how she acts and reacts under pressure in our field of work. Your daughter is more than capable of handling herself, and with Hotch by her side, they are as close to safe as they are going to get, and that's including if they were here. And that is why we will be focusing our investigation on finding the men who put them in this situation instead of our team members. Even with all of us putting our heads together to find them, hell, even with the entire BAU working together, it could take us days to track them down. They spend their lives tracking down criminals, and therefore know exactly how to hide from one. And even knowing them as well as we do, there's no saying how long it could take us to find them ourselves," said Rossi evenly, attempting to calmly explain this to the Ambassador.

Nodding in understanding, Elizabeth took a step back to stand next to the younger blonde woman who was brought in with her, now grasping the fact that this was no longer by any means her field of expertise. As hard headed as she knew that she was, she also knew when it was time to let others take the reigns. And in this case, she was sure that in her presence was a group of people who would do everything in their power to bring her daughter home. And from what she had overheard about Emily and her supervisor, she was sure that the same went for him as well. As difficult as it was sometimes for her and her daughter to get along, all she wanted was to see that she was brought home safely.

Seeing the Ambassador step down, Rossi turned his attention back towards Garcia who was still standing in the doorway. "Garcia, did you finish the search on Dames?"

Suddenly remembering the reason that she had barged into the room in the first place, Garcia stepped to the front of the room.

"Okay so I did what you said and I did every search in the book on Dames. And let me tell you, this is one creepy dude. He grew up with a seemingly normal lifestyle despite being one of the wealthiest families in the area. He had a brother who was seven years older than he was, and was homeschooled as far as I can tell, as there aren't any school records."

All the while that Penelope was speaking, the Ambassador was mulling her words over and over in her head. Something seemed familiar about what she was saying, but Elizabeth couldn't quite place it.

"Unbeknown to Dames, the rest of his family were deeply involved in multiple terrorist organizations all throughout Pakistan and were responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people. Just before he turned sixteen, his entire family was killed and many of the people that were working with the family were jailed. After that, Dames started getting involved in some…risky business as he got older.

"What kind of risky business?" Probed Rossi.

"Weaponry possession, drugs, prostitution. And that was just when he was younger. He's been arrested twice, once when he was nineteen and once when he was twenty-two, and then he seemed to disappear off the grid altogether. I couldn't find anything on him after his second arrest."

"What did you find on the takedown?"

"Not much Sir. The only information I was able to find regarding him was that Nicholas was proven innocent as he was oblivious to his family's occupation, and was then put into foster care. I was able to find links pointing in the direction of the CIA, but I unfortunately didn't find any ties to Emily."

As Garcia finished, the looks on the team's faces dimmed in disappointment that their only lead seemed to dissipate. _But why would Emily have told us to find information on him if there was nothing of importance to find? _

Just then, the Ambassador finally decided to speak up and share the information that she had figured out as Garcia was speaking. The only reason that she hadn't said anything yet was because she wasn't sure if it was her place to speak for her daughter. But, she figured that if her daughter had purposefully told the team to look up Dames, she must have been okay with the fact that they would be digging up her past as well.

"JTF," she stated mater-of-factly to no one in particular.

"Excuse me?" Said Rossi, eyeing the Ambassador confusedly.

Raising her eyes to meet those of the man before her she replied. "JTF-12. That's the group of people that did the takedown on Dames."

"Are you sure?" Asked JJ.

"Positive."

Suspicious of the Ambassador's sudden comment, Rossi looked to Garcia.

Shaking her head at his unspoken question she replied, "Sir, like I said, all I was able to find was that Dames was at the top of the most wanted criminals list for human trafficking, arms and weaponry, terrorism, prostitution, drug deals, the list goes on and on. And that he and his family were taken down by an elite group of CIA agents, but the details were all walled up like crazy, it would take me days to brake through those protections, and that's _if _I could do it undetected."

"Why was JTF involved in this?" Asked Reid, turning the attention back to the Ambassador.

"A better question would be how do you know about it?" asked Morgan.

"I hardly know the specifics regarding this case, but I do know that the situation was considered to be…somewhat delicate. The only reason that I know that they took part in the operation is because my daughter was part of the unit," she finished, looking up into the shocked expressions of the people placed around her.

After a moment of stunned silence and disbelief, the team sprung into action. Although they were both shocked and confused, they knew that in order to get answers they needed to continue with their investigation. At least now they had a proper lead.

"Garcia—"

"Already on it," Garcia replied to Rossi as she started to back out of the room.

"This time start with Emily. It will be difficult to dig up information on her time with the CIA that has been so well hidden, but it will be even harder to uncover information on Dames."

With a nervous expression, Garcia nodded shakily. The last thing she wanted to do was to upheave private information from one of her best friends' past. But she would follow orders without any grudge, knowing that she would go to any ends to bring her babies back to safety.

Scurrying away, the team watched as she left with a renewed, albeit slightly nervous determination. When she was no longer in sight, Rossi turned back towards the ambassador and took the seat directly across from her.

"Tell us everything you know."


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

**Alright guys, here it is! I sincerely apologize for how long its been but well…uhh….you know. Life and shit. **

**That being said, Monday is my birthday. So maybe I could get a few extra reviews on this one as an early present from all you readers? Please?**

When Emily woke up, the first thing that she would have thought to hit her would be a sense of dread. Worry for what would happen, subliminal amounts of fear that she had yet to let hit her consciously, and an overall sense of hatred for the totality of the situation. To her surprise, that wasn't the first, or even second thought that crossed her mind in the morning.

Her first registered thought was about coffee.

She loved coffee. Everything about it. The taste, the smell, its magical awakening powers, its mixture of richness and bitterness all in one. As a teenager, she could never understand why adults could so much as stand the taste, let alone drink it by the gallon on a daily basis. But now, she more than understood, and shared that sentiment of regarding coffee as a fundamental entity of life.

As she lay in bed breathing in the scent of freshly brewed coffee, a smile crept over her face, still sleepily closed eyes crinkling in the process.

Although content as the independently single woman that she prided herself in being, she had to admit that it was nice waking up with someone else in her company. A man. One the brewed her coffee.

Hotch.

Her eyes flew open. Dragged from her coffee induced reminiscing, she swiftly pulled the covers back and planted her bare feet on the hardwood floors. Dragging her go bag with her, she made her way into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She needed time to think before confronting Hotch. Now that the alcohol had worn off, the adrenaline from the past two days was long gone, and they were secured in the safe house, it shouldn't have been a surprise to her that everything was rushing back. She felt awful. Awful for what he was being dragged into, for what she got him involved in, for taking him away from the team, from his son, for—Jack! She gasped audibly, dropping the bar of soap that was in her hand, barely hearing it clatter near her feat in the bathtub.

What was she going to do! She had inadvertently taken him away from the one thing that mattered most in his life! And she hadn't even acknowledged it!

Cursing herself in every way possible, she mentally ran over her options. There was nothing that she wanted to do more in that moment than to send him back home to be with his son, but she knew that he was already too involved to call it quits now. Not only would he never allow her to face this by herself, but also because they both were aware that he had now become a target with or without her presence. The same reason being why she couldn't simply leave him behind. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be able to give him the slip if she so wanted. Yet she knew that he would be way too worried about her to be able to simply go home, and would be outraged if he knew she was even thinking about it. Moreover, she probably just wouldn't be able to bring herself to leave him behind. Not only would she feel bad and constantly be worried that _they _would somehow catch up to him, but if she was being brutally honest with herself, and she was, Hotch made her feel safe.

And just thinking that made her curse herself once more for being so selfish, and more importantly, sounding so pathetic. But she brushed those thoughts aside as she came to her conclusion. They were just going to have to catch this bastard so that he could get back to his son.

With that thought in mind, she quickly turned off the shower and slipped a towel around her torso while she pulled a pair of jeans and an inconspicuous solid blue V-neck out of her go bag.

Meanwhile, Hotch was sitting at the small kitchen table nursing a steaming cup of black coffee. To any observer, he would have seemed to be a perfectly content, average man, greedily taking in his daily dose of caffeine. But internally, he was struggling, fighting himself as he uncharacteristically tapped his foot against the floor.

He had heard Emily when she had gotten out of bed a few minutes prior, and was currently do everything humanly possible trying to NOT focus on the sound of the running water of the shower. Fighting the image that his mind subliminally conjured up of her, exposed, just a few rooms away. The pattern of uneven splashes of water hitting the floor around her nude ankles, water droplets cascading over her face, trickling down her slim neck and generous chest, hair soaked and tangled as she ran her fingers through it massaging her scalp, skin taught and smooth as the bubbly suds streamed down the length of her toned bod—_Stop_. _Don't go there._

Mentally reprimanding himself for his crude thoughts, he abruptly got up from the table and started puttering around in the kitchen in search of something to take his focus away from the woman in the other room. Having already cleaned up the mess that they had made the previous night before brewing coffee, he opened the fridge to search its contents.

Although he wasn't much of a breakfast eater, and he was almost certain that Emily wasn't either, he figured that she would enjoy the cooked meal. Grabbing the selected fixings, he immersed himself in his task, focusing to keep his mind solely on the food in front of him. So much so, that he didn't even register the fact the shower had stopped running, or that its occupant was standing a mere few feet away from him in the doorway.

"So serious." Emily said in a mock baritone voice as she watched her supervisor stand studiously over the stove.

"Jesus!" Hotch exclaimed, nearly flinging the spatula across the countertop.

"Sorry!" Emily said, stepping closer to him as she stifled her laughter. "I didn't mean to scare you, I didn't realize that you hadn't heard me approach. What were you thinking about anyways?" She asked inquisitively, curious as to what he could have been thinking about that had caused him to be so oblivious to his surroundings.

At her question, he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as the images of her showering flashed behind his eyelids once more. Turning back towards the stove so that she didn't notice his flushed cheeks, he turned his attention back towards the now-finished omelet. "Nothing important." He replied, hoping to avoid further embarrassment. Clearing his throat he continued. "I made breakfast. I hope you like ham and cheese omelets."

Studying him with suspicious eyes for a second longer, she let him change the conversation, storing his momentarily strange frazzled expression away for later contemplation.

"I love omelets!" She exclaimed, peering around his shoulder at the food he was dishing up onto two plates.

"Excellent."

"And here I thought I was the only one with hidden culinary talents," she said smirking at him as they sat down, teasing him gently. "Looks like I'm going to have to fight you for cooking rights!"

Chuckling softly, he replied a bit more seriously. "Trust me, the kitchen is all yours. I do like to cook from time to time, but I cant cook a full-fledged meal for Jack when all he really eats is Mac & Cheese, and yet when I'm by myself I don't really feel the need for anything other than simple take out. Cooking is too much of a hassle when you're rarely home long enough to do anything other than sleep, especially when you're cooking for one. "

Nodding her head solemnly, Emily silently slid her hand across the table and rested it atop his, briefly squeezing in a gesture of comfort. She knew that Hotch rarely opened up to anyone, and she was honored that he had chosen to share this with her. No matter how little or seemingly impersonal the information was, she knew that it took a lot for him to say those words. And profiler that she was, underneath the currently thinned mask usually placed heavily on his features, she saw what he was really saying. He was lonely. And that, was something that she herself could understand just fine.

Looking up from his plate at her downcast eyes, his affection for the woman across from his rose another notch. He had always admired her silent strength and her ability to comfort others with such ease. No matter the situation, she always seemed to understand exactly what he was feeling. And she did, he supposed. He wasn't the only one who went home to an empty house each night.

Feeling her hand start to retract, he quickly flipped his over so that it was palm up, and interlaced their fingers. As she lifted her head jerkily, eyes wide in surprise, he gave her a small smile, letting the gratitude, affection, and understanding show in his eyes. As the moment broke, he slipped his hand form hers with a final squeeze and rested it in his lap.

Puzzled by his actions, Emily was confused as to how her boss was acting. Sure, they had clearly gotten more comfortable around each other in the past few days—considerably so—and yet to her, his actions were demonstrating something above and beyond their realm of comfort. Unable to focus on what that meant, Emily Prentiss did what she did best. Compartmentalized. Burying her confusion and minimal amounts of shock at his ability to display emotion that was left over from the many months she had spent thinking that he was stone through and through, she cleared her throat, wanting to bring up the topic of conversation that she knew was coming.

"Hotch—I"

"Don't."

Bewildered by his harsh interruption, she shot a confused and started glance in his direction.

"I know what you're going to say. And I'm telling you; don't. Don't say it, don't think it, don't even feel it. You have no reason to feel guilty about me being here. Even if I thought that it was safe for us to separate, I wouldn't. I wouldn't leave you. We're in this together Emily."

The absolute sincerity and sureness of his voice left no doubt in Emily's mind that what he was saying held true. That, combined with the use of her first name nearly had her eyes burning with emotion.

Hotch recognized that he had used her first name, and he had done so on purpose. While he had been thinking of her as Emily rather than Prentiss more and more, he still tried to limit the use of her first name, no matter how much he enjoyed saying it. And he could tell by the look on her face that the use of her first name now had succeeded in conveying the message that he wanted it to, showing her that he was dead serious about not leaving her.

"But Jack—"

"I know." He interrupted once more, this time more sullenly. "And I know that you know that I hate being apart from him. But as terrible as it sounds, he's used to it. We've been separated for far longer than this. And I know he's safe. If I know the team at all, they've contacted Hailey and are making sure that they stay safe."

Nodding her head shakily, she knew that he was telling the complete truth. But no matter how much he repeated it, she knew that she would keep feeling guilty about dragging him into this situation in the first place.

Seeing that Emily was still somewhat hesitant, Hotch continued, determined to make this see that this was not her fault.

"Emily. Don't you dare feel bad about getting me involved, because you didn't. _I'm _the one who showed up on _your_ doorstep, remember? And as much as I want to see him, us separating could potentially put him in danger if I were to be with him. There's no place I'd rather be than right here, with you."

Emily was floored at the amount of emotion she could hear in his voice. She just couldn't understand how he could tell exactly what she was thinking. _Was she really that easy to read?_ But despite his sincerity, it was the last part about Jack that really had her starting to be okay with the whole situation. He was right. Him going home could put Jack in danger. They didn't know if Dames had found out who Hotch was, or what he know about him. With this thought, she nodded her ahead again, more surely this time.

"Okay." She said, willing her voice to come out strong and stable. Clearing her throat she continued. "Erhm, speaking of the team, it's about time we called them don't you think?"

Nodding his head agreeable, he responded as they stood up. "Yes I do."

"Maybe we can get Garcia to set up some protected line or something to let you talk to Jack!" She said suddenly, excited about the idea that maybe there was a way they could talk after all. "Or at least you could tell the team to tell Jack something for you."

Eyes lighting up at her idea, he was suddenly very eager to talk to the team. Sitting down in the study side by side, Emily quickly logged on to the computer.

….

Rossi trudged into the office, threw the files he had carried in with him on his desk, and tiredly plopped himself in his comfortable chair. The other members of the team watched as he nearly slammed the door, quite understandably knowing how he felt. None of them had gotten much sleep the night before, if any.

Rossi leaned back in his chair and tiredly ran his hands over his face, stifling a yawn, thinking back to the previous night. He had known that the team was getting too stressed out, and that mixed with overly tired was never a good thing. He had been planning on immediately following Morgan out, who was the last to leave the bullpen, but when he found himself alone at his desk, he couldn't get the images out of his head that had been running endlessly through his mind all evening. When he had sent Garcia to dig up Emily's file regarding her time with the CIA, he had not expected what they were to find to be quite so severe. Without a doubt, they had obtained enough information as to how Emily was involved in the situation to significantly help them with the case. Almost too much. Garcia had gotten both Emily and her ex-partner's full handwritten disclosure on the events that took place during their time in Pakistan. They now not only had a full debriefing of the wrongs of the family, but also of Emily's brief, yet horrific time held hostage. Dave almost wished that the disclosure had included images as well so that maybe the endless possibilities of horrific images that had been running through his mind all night could be put to rest. Almost. Images of a barely conscious, bruised and bleeding Emily had been at a constant slideshow running through his head keeping him awake all night, trying to fill in for what he could only imagine based on her description. Her very detailed description.

_Props to Emily for always being so zealous. Always the overachiever,_ he chuckled humorlessly to himself.

Sighing in defeat, he was about to stand up and make his way down to the bullpen when her heard a soft knock on his door.

"Come in," he said, looking up with minimal interest.

"Hey," JJ said, poking her head in the door before nudging it open wider with her foot. When she had it open all the way, Dave realized why she had struggled to enter so clumsily, and his eyes crinkled in affection. Coffee. Her hands had been full with the cup she outstretched towards him, and her open that she sipped from fervently.

"I thought that you looked like you needed a little pick-me-up. We are all waiting in the conference room when you're ready," she said with a kind smile, turning and retreating out of the small office. Before she once again disappeared behind the door, he called out softly. "Thanks JJ," he said with sincerity. "I'll be down in a minute." Seeing her nod her head in response before turning and shutting the door, he took a long swig of his coffee, and stood up to follow her down to the bullpen.

As he strode into the conference room, the soft half-hearted chatter came to a sullen stop. "Alright, listen up." He began tiredly, but with determination. "I know that we are all still a little bit shaken up from last night. But we can't let it affect our work. We have a long, hard day in front of us, and our team members our counting on us. With that said, Reid and I will continue looking over the files going deeper into Dame's background since we covered the ones of Emily's CIA days yesterday. Morgan, I want you to work on contacting all the local police stations to make sure that he wasn't brought into custody after the explosion. While it's highly unlikely, we need to be sure. JJ, keep doing whatever it is that you do. Just keep the press out of it. Garcia, do whatever you can to track Dames. Once Morgan confirms that he hasn't been arrested, I need you to try to find any trace of him at all."

Nodding their heads in consent, they all took off in their different directions to begin their work separately.

Three hours later, the clock was just nearing midday when they had their first breakthrough. Morgan had indeed confirmed that the police had been unable to find a perpetrator for the explosion, and no one fitting Dame's description had been brought into custody within the past 48 hours. Dave and Reid had sifted through the files, or rather Reid had read them at the speed of light and then thoroughly relayed all the information to Dave, trying to gain more knowledge of the situation to build a profile. With Morgan's help after he had completed his tedious calls to nearby stations, they had come up with a rather solid profile of the man, labeling him as a rage-driven perpetrator most likely suffering a psychotic break, rather than a straight up psychopath. While this pent up rage made him more dangerous and unstable, it would also make the likelihood of him making a mistake, or the chances that he would stand out if someone came in contact with him much greater. While they had made a fairly solid starting block in their investigation, there was still something about the whole thing that seemed a little off to Rossi. And suddenly, he put his finger on it. There was no stressor. In almost all cases where Unsub's had suffered psychotic breaks, there had to be something that set off the whole thing in motion. Yes, with this man, they knew that the rage was long lasting and therefore the stressor had to have taken place a long time ago, but still. In Emily's repot, they had read that Dames had been completely oblivious to what his family was doing, and seemed to want no part of it once he found out. So what made him go from that innocent boy to the man that he has become, blinded by rage to the point of going after Emily?

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the people in front of him still discussing the profile. When the conversation came to a lull and the three sat in the silence of their own thoughts for a moment contemplating what they had just unearthed, Garcia galloped into the conference room with a wild look on her face. Subconsciously, Reid noted that this was the first time she had emerged from her cave all morning.

"Everyone to the computers, now! Emily just logged on in the chat room!"


End file.
